MLFMP4: Fall of Quel'thalas
by pooktales
Summary: When General Blaize finds a little golden book that seems to tell a different version of the fall of Quel'thalas, it becomes clear that only one person, all along, has been responsible for the decline of the Thalassian empire. But who!
1. Black Blood

**MLFMP4: Fall of Quel'thalas**

(Disclaimer: This story is based upon a game called World of Warcraft. Therefore, I do not claim any rights to their story, or game.)

**A Note: **The truth is, I've struggled so much with this last installment that I decided to go at it from a new angle I've completely fallen in love with (this is the third re-write and counting! Yeehaw, join me on the crazy train!). Hopefully, the non-linear plot will contribute to the tension in the story and help to bewitch you. It should also contribute to the sense of the empire struggling, and General Blaize's distress at being banished.

**Premise: **When General Blaize finds a little golden book that seems to tell a different version of the fall of Quel'thalas, it becomes clear that only one person, all along, has been responsible for the murder of Queen Anthene'alas, the disappearance of Belorim Sunstrider and his mother's memories, Malfurion and Lady Vashj's poorly attended wedding, and the current-day agenda of the United Elven Alliance Social Club. But who would pursue world peace so ruthlessly? Blaize must make sense of it all before his horrifying present circumstances and those of his acquaintances get any worse. Because, screw world peace! Who wants to stay banished and married to Kael'thas' vicious step mother forever?!

This story is going to twist like crazy and then it's going to completely turn. But those who've been exposed to the entire series will love all the in-jokes.

(Prologues? We don't need no stinkin' Prologues!)

**Chapter One: Black Blood**

King Anasterian _Banu do li'Sangr_ Sunstrider, called the Black-Blooded by those relations who'd been allowed to live, knelt as his wife fell, then removed his hand from the knife. Anthene'alas always had such soft hands. Her fingers, Anasterian found, to always be succulent. He imagined that the sweet-wild taste of her fair skin was what milk had been intended to taste like. Life-giving substance, cream. She was so pristine and warm. True love.

He gently lifted Anthene's fingers from the silver handle. There were wilted leaves carved in a happy mess together, autumn.

Now, the guards finally came. Anasterian sensed their shock when the crash of greaves-to-marble silenced.

"The Queen has killed herself."

The others could breathe, and nothing more.

"She had a dream... in her state, can you believe it, she had a dream. And some crone from a far away land, a land of mists and impossible tall trees, this wrinkled old bitch told my wife that Sun itself would perish if there wasn't a proper sacrifice. She mourned, for days she mourned her own death. That is why she was so sick." Anasterian lay against her and hugged Anethe close. "Who would take such an innocent, delicate person, when I wanted her for myself!"

The King's advisor, named Sorn entered. He fixed his gold-rimmed glasses on quickly, then grabbed the wall. "Oh my King..." then, with heart. "No, my King. She was murdered."

"By me, then! Let it be me, not some unseen hand across the ocean, beneath the maelstrom, or above the heavens with dragons, oh--Sorn, let me be the one. They can try me for murder. She was my wife and I was supposed to be watching. And then I can escape this life too."

"You are called Banu do il'Sangr. Anasterian, remember why you were christened. Right now. The kingdom depends on your example."

"Oh, what a fine example for sycophants, users, and hangers-on!"

Sorn swiped off his glasses, and dabbed his eye with a handkerchief. If not for the incredible tragedy, anyone present would have remarked at his very unflattering pajama-shirt. And the knobbly knees with their wiry white hairs could only be called unsexy.

But they did not tremble like the King's. Anasterian raised to his feet. He tore gaze from his dead wife and made a fist. They all watched the veins go black.

"I feel no more sadness."

"Good. Now, tell them the right story. It must come from the King's lips, not his Advisor, a petty sycophant."

"The Queen Anthene'alas has been assassinated. The murderer is across the sea--has fled, across the sea. But if it takes another thousand years, the Sunstriders will find the murderess."

Then, Anasterian left. The light had gone from his eyes. Black demon magic obscured all he could see.

Finally, Sorn invited the Palace Guard to mourn with him. They covered their eyes and tried to remember the fine lady as she had been, once upon a time.

_One terrible year later..._

The time had come to christen Kael'thas. It was still not clear what the boy would remember of the event. All his male relations drank, threw their arms around oiled dancers and laughed that he was far too pensive, like his mother. Anasterian was known to have nothing but black veins at celebrations. It was left to the over-aspiring to copy it and charm their King with it. But in the company of other Sunstriders, the sad ability only encouraged silence.

A trio of laughing dancers came arm in arm and lifted Anasterian up from near the steaming coals then. More water was tossed on, and it went smoking high. The men whistled hard and clapped for him, and the ladies forced his blackened hands together, started up a cheerful beat. In time, he exploded laughter and lifted one up around his waist, endeavored to have her as he went along. Some family reunion.

To the blare of twin-flutes and tossed mageroyal petals, all through the splashing of golden enchanted water, and pungent spiced wine, above the crying of one terrified child, the men of the Sunstrider clan indulged blindfolded slave-girls. They tore pheasant from full roasted birds, and shared lamb among themselves. Anyone with the sacred name or born of someone who'd touched it had been invited there. Their wives or daughters weren't exactly absent; they were the ones who'd insisted the prostitutes be blinded so as not to encourage any claim to specific Sunstrider fortunes or thrones, through whatever bastards would be born that night.

Kael'thas had been seated at the center of the largest table. The Mistress of Ceremonies was one of the Sun-Cult, a tamed succubus with black pitch painted all over her skin. She held the boy in her mostly naked lap and sang to him, with fangs and in the ancient language. An uncle it must have been, came close, and she snatched the coiled whip behind her, snapped it in the air.

"Vakka tu Raxka! Wait, 'till he is christened." and she went back to teaching poor Kael'thas the song.

Anasterian passed by, and they both reached for each other. Father laughed, and son felt sure he was going to die. The women on either side of him rang bells, slapped the King's backside with a shepardess' crook and forced him onward. A tent set up at the head of the room was done in sheer blue cloth. The King was tossed with perfume and garlands then left inside.

The Crone was a woman with few teeth left. She set down her pipe, and beckoned with a crooked finger. Anasterian took his striped hands and reached for the crystal orb.

"Before we begin," he laughed, and pinched his nose together, for it'd started to bleed, black-dark. "Whyever did you murder my wife?"

"It was not I," she crowed, "but another."

"I may be very amused right now, because of the drink, or the smoke, or what this disgusting birth-power is doing to my veins and my better sense... but I can still kill you with two-halves of a thought!"

"And then the youngest Sunstrider will go through life with no useful name. Would you like for the Prince to be ignorant of his greatest power?"

"Perhaps he would be better without a damned name. Kael'thas already got one from his mother. The other one from me... what else does he need in this pointless life?"

"He will find a greater love than even you're due and it depends on the name. Yes, the Cult of the Sun knows."

Anasterian watched the orb beneath her hands glow.

"I am to fall in love again?"

"Of course. One as capable and charming as you... who can walk so very well with a woman between his thighs. I do look forward to the christen-price, if you intend to fake with me--"

Anasterian itched a now furrowed brow. "Please, go on."

"Kael'thas will fuck wives and castrate their husbands."

"Good Old Gods! Are you crazy?"

"I see... only what the future holds. You may call it a curse of you wish," she cackled, "but think of what he will do to his enemies?"

"And also to his friends. Or, to mine."

"No, you both will have the same enemies."

"Enough. Was the murder of Anthene'alas from the other cult? The Cult of the Moon?"

"There are but two of those priestesses left."

"You know them?"

"I don't know you. Not well enough, yet. Come."

Anasterian pressed heels of his hands into his eyes, crouched over the old woman, grabbed the failing muscles in her thighs, and did as much as he could manage without vomiting or killing her.

When Anasterian was again sitting on his heels and doing a decided meditation with ever-darkening veins and an immense effort at composure, the scrying orb washed clear.

"That is Darnassus."

Anasterian nodded.

"But it is not Tyrande."

"Of course not. It would never be Tyrande. So then, it is some other Priestess of Elune?"

"Not Elune. Of the Moon-Cult. The Demon-minders, the water-putrifiers, the friends of Illidan Stormrage."

Anasterian tried very hard to recognize the face, but it was monstruous and reptilian. Or, so he thought... no creature looked like this. He sensed it had been a beautiful woman, once. Intelligent. But now, evil and desperate...

"Olvi'athon is the name."

"Thank you, Crone. Finally, my heart can be at peace, and we can start the search for this witch..."

"No, that is the true name of your son. As for your wife's murderer... only time can tell." she laughed.

Anasterian didn't. He put fingers into his mouth and lifted a razor blade from beneath his tongue. The old woman screamed. The whole tent came down as the cult's eunuchs wrestled the raging Sunstrider away from the last Sun Priestess. Their straining biceps sparked with gold threads of magic.

"Oh this is at an end!" Anasterian spat blood, as eunuchs lifted him from his kicking feet. "This whole insanity is at an end do you hear me? The Sun had better break, now. I'll smash it to pieces myself!"

A black-painted succubus followed the King and the struggling eunuchs on their way out of the noisy hall. Little Kael'thas had fallen asleep in her arms, the whole half of him smeared with pitch.

_The next morning..._

Anasterian rubbed his thumbs over his son's cheeks. The boy was but four years old, yesterday. Already, there were so many striking features left from his mother Anthene'alas. Kael'thas had been allowed to sleep in, and the finally King arrived after so many of the boy's favorite foods and friends had been invited to cheer him.

"What do you remember, of last night?"

Kael'thas screwed up his face, then looked down. "A… succubus."

Anasterian began to groan. "Well, forget about her, Kael'thas. This is all you need: Your true name is Olvi'athon."

Kael'thas was watching the inside of his father's wrist. Two strong veins there had bruised black.

"Does that mean I can change colors now too?"

"Absolutely not. What it means is... when you are older I can give you the exact language. But for now, you must be conscious of women. Be kind to them, Kael'thas."

"But I am going to marry mommy when I grow up. Like you did."

Anasterian pulled away. No, it was all too difficult.

"Yes... you should do that. Marry someone like your mother."

"Father, where are you going?"

Anasterian stopped in the open doorway. "I am going to punish all those foul people we met last night."

"But I liked the succubus though…" Kael'thas saw his father's stern look and became quiet again.

"That is never going to happen again, not to another Sunstrider. Don't you ever take your son to a christening by the Sun-Cult, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Sir."

Anasterian smiled painfully, kissed the razor-blade wounds of his mouth to a hand, and waved good-bye.

Little Kael'thas wriggled his toes and watched how that upset the blanket. Tomorrow, Olvi'athon would become the first word that he yelled, screamed at the top of his lungs, a word which gave him unholy confidence, an edge, a black streak. Advisor Sorn would do his best with the boy, of course, when Anasterian was again lost in grief. And the King also mourned that all his wayward family left him with was a talent for suppressing varieties of excellent pain. Black Blood.


	2. Anasterian's Widow

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Two: Anasterian's Widow**

"What I can't understand is, how did Anasterian ever manage to survive marriage to Celestia?"

Blaize, and everyone was nice enough to still call him 'General', tossed a tangerine-colored nightie, a girdle that Dannox howled laughter at, a strange Gnomish pump and a box of something that jingled oddly out of the first drawer of his wife's armoire.

His friend Dannox was a Night Elf. Through the window, it was perfect noon and the purple haze of magic exhaust and a mixture street dust settled thick over the roofs of the Dalaran city skyline.

"I see you're considering Lady Novia's offer of marriage counseling..."

"I swear that I will stab you Dannox. Aha! Vain woman, of course you'd keep a diary..." Blaize lifted up the golden book. It was sealed on all sides by an elaborate metal clasp, and so there were eight sharpened corners. One edge on the back had a peculiar dark-stained patina, but it was mostly cleaned off. There looked to be no way of opening the book.

"Does the key work?"

"Damn. No, it must be for something else. It's the only key I could find in this apartment that wasn't mine. Maybe there's a spare in her security box at the bank."

"Oh, but King Kael'thas won't allow you into any of Dalaran's banks. His mommy is the one who got to dole out your allowance these last ten years."

Blaize paced. He sweated. He watched Dannox twirl one cup of his wife's monster-sized brazier on a pointed finger with horrifying skill.

"Celestia is his step-mother. I should only have been lucky to ever meet Queen Anthene'alas. She was elegant and an inspiration. There is an entire section in the Royal Silvermoon Library dedicated to her. That is the Quel'thalas I conscripted for, followed Kael'thas all over Outland for, and then back again. Those are two completely different women, Dannox. Now, for old gods' sake, put that thing back, and help me with the rest."

Dannox took the diary from Blaize and cheered victory. A manly slap on the buttocks.

"Dannox..."

"Well, this is a find! It's been, what, fifty years' coming?"

"Unless Celestia lied to me about her age. Come on, what's left of brunch is on me. The old Queen is such a slob, I doubt she'll notice if we put things wrong."

"No, that's where _you're_ wrong, my General. Messy people use the pile system."

"As in you're about to be a pile of something if you keep grinning at my banishment like that? Certainly."

_Later, at a crowded outdoor cafe..._

"Well, as far as what I advise you do about these other problems..." Dannox had a sip of wine, and licked sweet ruby from his canines before getting on with it, "I really only befriended you, General, because I wanted a chance to sleep with your wife."

Blaize made a fist of the newspaper he had been reading, and stabbed out his cigar in a silver ashtray between them. Dannox picked up a sprig of asparagus next, and snapped it off with his teeth.

"Well, I suppose this isn't the first time." Blaize smoothed the Dalaran Herald flat on the cafe table and pinched his upper lip, deep in thought.

Dan laughed, a low, indulgent chuckle, and moved a gold torc further up his dark forearm. Night Elves did not usually wear jewelry, and perhaps that is why the excellent white sleeve was being rolled down to hide how fine the craft was. Two lion heads snarled at each other, where the bracelet could have closed shut. "I see the King of Quel'thalas sufficiently humbled you."

"Eh, I humbled myself. It's just that I don't understand, why, with Celestia's inheritance from Anasterian _and_ her allowance from Kael'thas, do we have to live in such a tiny loft on Eighty-Fifth Street? I turn my back in that apartment, then turn around again, and I see her! And that part of the city is becoming the Gnomish District, Dannox!"

"Merry and I lived over there before she introduced me to Shine."

"Was this the one-legged prostitute... or the other one?"

"No, Shine was--is--an actress. And she's got two legs, the second one is just... well, wooden. But she continues to be a good lay, so I don't worry about that anymore. And one night at her opera in Cantrips, while the other one--that was Liz'beth, the leggy Draenei--was out powdering her nose, I met Lady Novia..."

"Yes, Novia, how could we ever forget about her? The uncrowned Queen of Dalaran--or for the Elves holding up here in this city, anyways. And we'd better shut our mouths before we upset anyone who's not been upset by _her_ yet."

Dannox frowned at the sardines on his plate. "Why did I order this?"

"Because they're salty, like the asparagus, and you were also being an ass when you don't eat meat, but I can't afford to buy it. Here, look. There are two perfectly good houses on the market and near the Legerdermain Lounge."

Dannox leaned across the table and tugged on the newspaper, to read it upside down.

"You have a strange way of doing things..."

"I just make you nervous, Blaize. But that's fine with me."

Blaize furrowed his brow. "Well, what do you think of the house?"

"You and Celestia can't afford that. Well, if she rented out just one of her breasts to an upstanding sort like myself, with a hefty allowance of his own from Novia, then maybe."

"Oh gods, Dannox, she's still my wife, and I thought we just got that out of the way--"

"I know she turns you right off, Blaize, my General, but don't lie and say there isn't at least any romance between you two."

Blaize folded his newspaper and excused himself. "Brunch is on you this time, if I recall."

But Dannox was the sort to be more offended that the naughty question wasn't answered. "A man as well-endowed as she is making you should share, that's all I'm saying. She's a spectacle, like a public service, really. Or, maybe it's me. I shouldn't drink this early, I guess."

Blaize didn't know why, but he chose to navigate through the crowded brunch tables without turning his back to the perverted Night Elf.

"And Novia has invited you dress-shopping, don't forget, Blaize!" Dannox called. "See you in the trenches, General."

Blaize laughed, saluted back, and left the cafe. In a way that he couldn't explain, Dannox, if you stuck it out long enough with the dirty dog, could be exceptional. Nathaniel Blaize lingered before a gentleman's outfitter on the way home and found himself admiring the gold torcs in the window. The shopkeeper came out and shook his hand eagerly, because Blaize had that sort of reputation, though not that kind of money. Everyone kept making that mistake. Blaize only tipped his hat, then strode purposefully--not quickly, he couldn't be seen running from expenses--down the road.

_Later..._

Dannox was angry that afternoon, because Celestia had worn a shawl.

Blaize said, "I told her to wear that."

"You warned her about me?"

"Sadly, no. I may still need a favor from you yet. And you, Novia too, are the only good sort willing to speak with us. Ten years of trying here in Dalaran, and you two are the best we can do."

"No, the United Elven Alliance Social Club is the best we all can do, outside of our respective cities." Dannox sighed. "You and your wife aren't the only Elves in Dalaran with a plan to scale the wall next to the gilded social ladder."

Blaize guided Dannox aside, when the ladies stopped to chat before a rose-tinted shop window. They also had to wait for the loud tromp of horses' hooves to pass on Market Street. This was the high district, with the Legerdermain Lounge and Violet Hold so close together. Everything pleasing directly in Rhonin's sight, of course. People were at their best and even if grime was undoubtedly in their hearts--Dannox was a prime example--at least it wasn't on the street itself.

"There _is, _in fact, romance between us."

"Oh, this is good, Blaize. Tell me about it right now."

Blaize scratched his goatee. He was actually going to do this? "But first, I need a favor."

"In that case, later on, I will need a demonstration of it instead."

"A sketch, then."

"No, a painting."

"A paint-- You ass, I can't afford that."

"You can't, but if you talk Celestia into it... Maybe you'll tell her it's in vogue, a tribute to her particular sensual beauty. Afterwards, private explicit paintings can get stolen very easily, Blaize. We've all seen the famous Porn-trait by now, you know? That's how she'll see herself, like a young Saturna Whiteblade… in the fast and declining Gnomish District."

"Fuck you, Dannox." Blaize made a fist, but stuffed it into his pocket when Lady Novia and Celestia lowered their parasols to mind them. "Alright, fine."

"I'll hire out the Gnome robbers. By the end of this month?"

"Alright, alright. Now then, as for my favor... Perhaps you weren't listening at brunch today," they had to start walking again, "but, if I can't get into a better living situation with Celestia, then I need to get out of this marriage. Sometime soon. I can't take it anymore, Dannox."

Her voice sang out, "Nathaniel, dear. I'll need you to preside over a changing session. But not Dannox."

Lady Novia was a druid also, like Dannox. She purred at him. "The General is a husband, while my Dannox is only a suitor. Surely, you understand."

It made no sense, but Dannox flashed Blaize a jealous look. _I want details later..._

"One moment, ladies." Blaize's eyes pleaded with Dannox. _Gods, I'll want to wash my eyes with acid later... _

Blaize took Dannox aside a final time. "Why not go right now?" He slipped what was surely his wife's loaned gold into the breast pocket of Dannox's coat. It was a brown pinstripe with bronze buttons, part of a three piece suit with a very trim vest Blaize was sure he could have fit into... once upon a time. Before Kael'thas and his antics. "Celestia keeps a diary but I can't find the key. A copy is surely in her deposit box at the bank, but I don't have any rights there, considering the terms of my banishment. You do, though. You know a teller."

"Teller? Excuse me, but I've moved up in the world since the one-legged opera singer. I only screw Bank Presidents and above, thank you very much. Oh, and well I guess I still visit with Shine. Her voice really is very pretty, especially from underneath. One day, I just know she'll make it a real opera at Songstress' Hall."

Blaize made another fist in his second pocket. "I hope you die soon, of so very many well-earned diseases."

"I'm a tree, Blaize. I may be all wood, but I do heal." Dannox winked at him, offered the ladies several flavors of shaved ice, they decided, and then went--to the next block, he said--to run that very errand.

"What's this, Nathaniel? A fist in your pocket? Or, are you happy to see us?" Celestia made him kiss her before they entered the establishment and addressed the shopkeeper properly.

_Later…_

Lady Novia was hot-blooded, from what Blaize could tell. It was the only reason he could fathom her, being a druid too, and getting all over and under Dannox as he unfortunately knew she was inclined to do, and not bedridden with all the nasties Dannox should have been bringing home this past year and a half. Before then, he's not sure what brought either of to Dalaran. They didn't come together, Dannox had sneaked in many years later than she had and did some fast dealing down in Cantrips, no doubt, before Novia mistook him for a gentleman. Well, whatever those two were up to, it wasn't just disgusting, it took skill. Frightful skill. And it was also cruel of Novia, because he felt sure the Night Elf woman's loose morals explained how Celestia was coping with his own absence in the bedroom. Simultaneously, it was the major reason why, once Blaize decided to give up on Celestia, he stayed away from her. Who knew where or what Novia slept in?

Dannox, that's what.

Blaize removed the hand from his chin and a tired gaze when the ladies emerged from the fitting rooms in their ball gowns.

"Oh, just splendid."

"But Blaize, you didn't even look. Take a good, long look."

He stood and paced around them. Several reflections of the duo twirled and flirted in the flawless glass. Blaize's image was stuck in the joints of the mirrors, at his angle.

"Ah, yes. The dresses are... see-through."

Celestia clawed hands into her abundant skirts. "No, they aren't."

"Well, the top of yours is, dear, as always."

"Yes, of course, that's standard with me. But admire the seams in Novia's coture design, it hugs her form, doesn't it? It's as if--"

"That's Saturna's dress." Blaize felt light for a moment. When he was grounded again, it was with a fatiguing anger.

Novia reached up and unpinned the long braid wrapped round her head, and started combing out the white hair with her fingers. "No, just the style of it. It did take a while to order though, didn't it, Celestia? But designs from that era have finally arrived here in Dalaran."

"Oh, Novia, you'll muss your hair in public!" Celestia giggled, then went round to help her undo it all. Finally, Novia was in Saturna's dress, with that characteristic sweep of bang--a shining moonlight tress hooked behind the Night Elf woman's long ear. Celestia watched Blaize over her prop's shoulder, and tousled more and more of it so that it curled and looked youthful. "Why, Blaize, isn't she darling? Wouldn't you love to dance with our very own Lady Novia in this?"

Blaize worked to control his voice. "I only had but one dance with my ex-wife before I lost her..."

Celestia petted and hugged Novia at last. "Perhaps you didn't hear me correctly. You are to be Novia's escort for the Solar Festival Ball, the two of us agreed."

"Two of you. I make three."

"Four, actually. We are going to switch lovers for the evening. Dannox may have neglected to tell you, and I think that is only because he wished to surprise you, but he has been trimming himself in order fit into--an authentic, real--festival suit of Anastarien's that I acquired."

Novia picked up her skirts and came gently forward to kiss Blaize's hands. "It is not exactly natural, at first contemplation, but if you allow yourself to consider all angles of the idea," and she looked him over, head to toe, "No one else should play the great jilted General but yourself. And if I am going to have you, then my Dannox shouldn't go unmatched. Celestia will play herself to the great jilted Sun King. Well, it's the other way around, he was the one doing all the jilting about town, but Celestia isn't offended."

Celestia walked toward Blaize, but he flinched backward. Regarded her as if she was about to hit him, and he ready to defend himself. "The past is the past, Blaize. It would make an incredible impact for us, if we can let go of it, don' t you think so?"

Dannox came in with shaved ice, Blaize yelled and ripped off Novia's dress, Celestia threw up her arms in excitement over the plain-view scandal, and Dannox found a way to trip into Celestia, both cups of frozen dessert aimed tastelessly well, directly through the sheer front of her gown.

"Oh, Celestia, are you cold? I'm so, so very sorry!"

Blaize finally punched Dannox in the face.

While the two men wrestled--Dannox was laughing--the store erupted in chaos. Customers pushed over or snatched things, then cleared out of the store. Celestia and Novia raced to the dressing rooms to change back to decent clothing, in a fright. They nagged and screeched at their men from where they were. Dannox kept dodging and weaving around Blaize's hits, them both crashing through glass counters and breaking up pink painted faux walls. The ladies emerged--or perhaps it happened just nearly before they did, as if Dannox had a sixth sense for feminine wrath--and he hugged Blaize from behind, picked him up, then let him come gruffly down again. Then he seized Blaize by the hips, and bounced him playfully forward.

"DANNOX!"

It was Lady Novia who'd yelled, but Celestia was the one with the stricken and shocked look. Blaize was astounded, never before had a fight with another gentleman gone so strangely. They'd hurt one another, surely, but it had been wildly fun. Dan never stopped laughing, he'd just been playing with him. Blaize had a sneaking suspicion that Dannox wasn't surprised at all, that it'd been staged...

When Blaize became aware of Celestia's arm across his back, guiding him forward, Novia and Dannox were long gone.

"Celestia, I don't find this swapping of mates amusing in the least. I refuse to play to anyone's representation of Saturna, least of all that hated Novia!"

She barely recovered from laughter, "And do you think I enjoy playing the jilted maid of Anasterian's for a second time in life? But the people will love it--Novia adores us for it--and all of Dalaran will remember us, invite us out... and that will enable us to finally improve our situation, husband."

Celestia then pursed her lips and burst into another round of laughter.

"Alright, share it. This place is in ruins, we're bound to be blamed and have to pay for it. I destroyed two dresses and shattered our connection to Novia and the United Elven Social Club, certainly. Why are you so sure that this all is going to work out, and that we'll survive Dalaran, this hell--what is this great big joke I'm missing?"

Celestia leaned over and snorted. She waved the shopkeeper off when he came and wanted to talk damages. "I just... I don't want to ruin this for you, or for myself. Our aims are crossed-swords in this situation... HA!"

Blaize stuffed fists into his armpits.

"Alright, alright... your friend, that Dannox, I've never seen such good wood in broad daylight before. And he snatched his coat off, covered it on the way out..."

"What? You'll have to spell that out, I can't read through all these healing druids puns anymore, and dammit, woman! I have a headache!"

"He has a crush on you, dear. Dannox likes you."

Blaize looked out over the store, tried to remember every detail of that manly fight. "Oh, no..."

Celestia hugged him. "And it gets better! Novia knows it, and she will be more than inclined to indulge us at the Solar Festival. Of course she will want to keep Dannox away from you and bound to me, of course."

"I don't see how this is funny."

"Continue what you've been doing dear. Seduce him, please go on with it. I love this because, between the two of us, we have got Dalaran's most socially-capable couple in the palm of our hands."

"What do you mean, we?"

"Well, love, Novia adores you too, haven't you noticed? I mean, she's offering to be your Saturna for an evening--a wife or mistress, what do I care? Oh, what I would give to be a fly on the wall of that fight when those two get home."

Their coach arrived, Celestia signed off on more than a few things inside the disrupted store while Blaize sat inside the carriage alone.

"Bad day, General?"

"Why does everyone know me, but yet I don't care to know them."

Blaize wanted to pull out his hair, as he watched his wife promise to give away more and more of their money to this well-to-do place. What did they need it for? They had wealthy customers, who would only return in droves once the scandal got out, surely. But she was going to save their reputation by generously repairing the damage such that no one could deny they were capable and generous, if a little passionately reckless.

"Driver, I apologize for my rudeness. It's just that, I became sure today my wife is plotting to have an affair, if she hasn't already."

"You don't say? Cruel harpies women can be. Will you be paying for the ride, sir?"

"Actually, no--"

"Oh me, well if it isn't any of my business, then I'll end by saying it's probably your fault to disappoint someone as lovely as the once Queen Celestia of Quel'thalas anyways."

Blaize squinted an eye. Money, money, money. It had been his life, and now he was sure it would mean his death. He got a hand on the silver carriage handle, stepped down into the street from his side and got the hell out of there. A purposeful stride--for he couldn't be seen running from his wife--down the street.

Celestia stepped up into the carriage moments later, and wondered where Blaize was. "Driver?"

"Madam, where to?"

She considered for a moment. "I haven't got the money for this ride, but I will open this dress and allow you a look if you take me home."

"I'll require a bit more, if I'm to stay silent about it."

Celestia thought again. "I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind parting with one of his medals. In fact, when we arrive, I will see if he minds. If he isn't there... then I suppose he doesn't mind."

"Alright. Hold on then, Ma'am, we'll need to make time."

The carriage clattered fast down the street. Blaize surely wandered, all night, having not even Dannox's change from the shaved ice to fund any kind of sleeping arrangement or meal for the evening. He considered, of course, calling upon Dannox one more time. But then the reason why Dannox was always so willing to pay for him left a sour taste in Blaize's mouth. When at last Blaize came home, just early enough in the morning for the neighbors not to notice, someone flashed a badge in his face and stopped him cold on the doorstep.

"Sir, I am from Silvermoon, on behalf of the King. He requests I investigate your infidelity to his step-mother, as it will forfeit her inheritance, and the whole of fucking Quel'thalas would still like a piece of that."

Blaize grabbed the man by his collar. "What fool are you..."

Dannox started laughing, and Blaize wiped his hands of him. "No, mon capitan, listen to me... perhaps I let something go back there--"

"Go! I'll say, I'm damned well sure that I _felt _it!"

"Shh! I have a reputation too, you know. Those ladies I keep track of, they'll start talking if they realize I'm not serious about any of them."

"As they naturally will, too, when they eventually come into contact with one another."

"It's the same problem, of course. That's what I meant, Blaize. Here, this is your medal. I saw it in the front window of the Outfitter's. She must have sold it."

Blaize took it gently, inspected it. He missed a breath, and swayed on his feet. More fatigued rage...

"Let's get breakfast."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I am still your friend, I couldn't survive Novia without you. I'm still your buddy-in-the-trenches..."

"Whatever the HELL that means--"

"And I have your key. I still expect a painting of your wife's spectacular nipples by the end of this month. I felt them today. Chilled and perfect."

Blaize was hungry. And he didn't know what he would say to Celestia when he got back and she smirked at the sold-off medal. He supposed that is why he followed Dannox. They sat down in a somewhat acceptable tavern, ate in silence, smoked...

"Blaize, it's alright. I may be attracted to you," Dannox glanced around the empty place, "But I don't want you. You're not my type."

Blaize mumbled, "...Didn't feel like it."

Dannox began laughing again.

"Look, you! How am I supposed to remain civil when I... that's not what I want either, but a man just doesn't... put his sword up against another man like that, not his friend, not when he isn't expecting it!"

"You impolite fucker... what else was I supposed to do, warn you first? About who I was born, who does that? I like women and men, General Nathaniel Blaize. Sometimes I go home and fantasize about your wife, and on other days, I go home after brunch and find myself smiling about you. Is that so bad?"

"Gods, I'm going to be sick..." Blaize leaned over and let his forehead thump on the table.

"You are a handsome man, General. This sort of thing is meant to happen from time to time. Goddess, why did I order this?"

Blaize looked to see what Dannox meant. "Oh, well if you don't want your steak then I'll eat it."

Dannox pushed the plate across the rickety table.

"I like you Blaize, in both ways. Once you're done getting over it, you can accept that, really, at the end of all this, it's Celestia I want to hump, not you, and if we can get you the free life you deserve too, then it's doubly good for me. Do you think I like paying your way all the time? And you've got a better figure than that, or the way you're dressing... trust, I can help with all of it."

"This is an odd boost to my confidence."

Dannox lifted and turned his coffee mug in quarter-circles.

"Look, Dan, why did you not tell me that you were already going to date my wife for an evening? You're going to have hours alone with Celestia."

"Yes, but I needed to know, first, how much I'd be able to get away with. It sounds like I can't kiss and tell though, now. She must have a powerfully bad collar around your neck if you're still going to keep what goes on between you two a secret. Did you ever, ever love her, Nathaniel? Classy woman, good-looking, smart enough to manage you bald..."

Blaize finished eating and leaned back in his chair, thrummed fingers on the table. "I wanted her when we first met, for a few reasons. And afterward, she outfoxed me several times... but I think that I only ever loved one woman."

"But that woman is just another Queen, Blaize. You've got one of those too, now."

"You just asked me for crib notes with my wife, but now you want me to give marriage another chance?"

Dannox looked upset, perhaps for the first time Blaize ever remembered. "Look, I didn't know it was like that for you. Just... get me that painting on time, and we can chat more about your wife and I later."

"...Who were you in love with, once long ago, to give me such good advice?"

Dannox finished his coffee. "A man."

Blaize wasn't sure if he wanted to learn more. He didn't trust this new fascinated urge to understand Dannox. Was it the thirst for more knowledge when he was so mysterious, or something else, stirring his heart...

"You're straight, stop looking at me like that."

"Thanks, Dan."

"Good Morning, General." He left the key on the table, and waited for Blaize to gather himself up. "What do you think you'll find in that diary?"

"How her soulless heart works. I can already guess that huntress mentality. She practically, single-handedly, destroyed a kingdom, Dan. Through Anasterian, of course, but I've heard rumors that man snapped because of her. How does a normal woman break a Sunstrider?"

"Be careful, Nathaniel. I don't want the same thing to happen to you. Or, have you ever thought about it in another way? Suppose you're gambling with a changed woman, it's been decades..." Dan gave a sharp wave, then went briskly off into the morning.

Blaize slipped the key into his pants--the one place Celestia would not be able to look--and took his time going home. His present wife and the widow of Anasterian Sunstrider was not there. And so, the diary begged to be read. It was troublesome to find something useful right away. The enchanted book skipped pages, scrambled itself, and stories were sometimes laid out upside down:

_Silvermoon City, 1000._

_Today marks one thousand years exactly since our proud people settled in the North and rejoined Illidan's vial with the pristine waters of Quel'danas Isle. I celebrated the day alongside its enchanting waters, and--believe—that many a handsome young man inquired to Lord Sunthraze as to whether or not I was spoken for yet. I love him, I do, I adore him. He rebuffed many in a fit of wild jealousy, began a fistfight for my benefit, and we laughed so very hard on the way home, though his hat had been punched through. Oh, but it was a spectacular mess! They all heard I was Celestia the Virgin, that is how Roan Sunthraze put it! Oh, what humor. If not for his low connections--his title is only inherited, I found, and the family is in terrible debt... If not, then it'd be him keeping me warm these winter nights..._

And so much else ruminating over men and wealth that Blaize forced himself to skip ahead,

_...and what alarmed me about the Queen's death most, once I started to read the King's biography, is that it was no real surprise to Anasterian. Obviously, he was grieved, but for her to go so peacefully in her sleep... A cloistered priestess pointed the reason out to me in the Library, or else I would have never inferred it. I came to read the most popular book on the shelves, to stay in vogue, but this Sister Liadrin had already read it three times over and was practically an expert on the other notes and writings of Anasterian regarding Anthene'alas. And the late Queen kept a lively journal of stories too. Hrm, I seem to have wandered, where was I? _

_Oh! Anthene'alas was very ill when she first met the King. This Sister Liadrin says Anthene's family at first opposed the marriage, as their daughter was not expected to live very much longer. Somehow, Anasterian forced the issue, however. Later, his Queen only had rare moments of high spirits at exact intervals as their marriage declined. And so I think to myself, what sort of man falls in love with an invalid, knows that they aren't fated forever, but still lays happy by her side, night after night? I seriously don't get it. Men are so curious. I wonder if it would be proper to inquire about this to the King, if I ever do get into his circle? That would be a clever question no other young lady would ask, save Celestia the Virgin! Lord Sunthraze promised to bring me along if his request to wait upon the King is granted. Anasterian has purchased a winning Hawkstrider from the Livery do il'Sunthraze for Prince Kael'thas' birthday. Fat chance, that is, but a woman with such near-real designs and good breeding as mine can still hope..._

Blaize set down the book immediately. "An invalid? So then, Anthene'alas had already lived a full life--as much as could be expected--when she died? I remember that Queen Anthene'alas was murdered, they meant to catch the culprit who'd fled across the sea but, for Arthas' attack, justice was never done. No, but here it says that the Queen died in her sleep. I knew Lady Liadrin had been a cloistered priestess at one point, I suppose that is the same Sister Liadrin. And Liadrin is too forthright to do a sloppy job researching… But even if Liadrin did have a reason to mislead Celestia, all that long ago, why would Celestia record the Queen's death exactly wrong in her diary?"

Well, Celestia had mentioned being by the Sunwell earlier in the day, perhaps that had altered her mood and sense, as it had to so many Blood Elves before they realized the extent of their arcane addictions. Blaize checked the street. Still no sign of his wife. He read on. "It must be the damned journal, mucking up the truth. None of this is how I remember real events at all..."

But if it was the truth… Blaize banished a sudden fearful feeling. No, he had suffered in this gods-for-saken city for ten years with nothing really satisfying to do, except deceiving his wife. Whatever this strange story would come to, for now, it was delicious.

A note from pooktales:

Aha! Dannox is in this story. To those folks who said they liked Triangle, I admit now that I was too chicken to finish writing it. But the three fun characters from that story will be in this one.


	3. The Mad House of Sunthraze

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Three: The Mad House of Sunthraze**

_Almost fifty years earlier..._

Anasterian rolled his eyes, whistled innocently, and left the drawing room. The smells of dinner at the Sunthraze home were strong as ever, and thankfully, Anasterian was a no longer a hungry Prince, if a bored one. It was Lord Sunthraze's son, Roan, who was the chat--the smartmouth. Fantastic person and impressive youth. If only it was still considered humane to keep jesters on leashes... The master of the house had been called away to see about an emergency in the stables, something about a Hawkstrider hatched on its head and the mother wanting to peck it dead. Birds. Roan had promised something really jaw-cracking, but he'd left it in his room. But both of them were so red-faced and so loud at that point, Anasterian couldn't remember if his young host had been so insistent upon him staying in the room, to truly keep him seated, or to arouse his curiosity and follow. Only so many boys could break dinner plates from Dalaran over their father's head, one after the other, and still end the night with everyone pleased about the meal and howling laughter.

Anasterian checked the first room on his right. It turned out to be a servant's, and it was pitch dark. He snickered to himself, sipped more laced wine, and tried the next one. The Lady of the house, fast asleep. Shut it, fast! Anasterian backed against the wall, breathing hard and laughing at his own foolishness. The third door, Roan was the baby of the family, his room had to be near mother's...

He tripped past the open door and came to looking at an ornamented mirror across the hallway. A woman gasped as someone worked over her, the lucky perpetrator wasn't clear. Anasterian got comfortable and had more wine. Oh, she was beautiful. Red hair so pale it tempted roses, and a fair complexion which shamed any worshipper of the Sun. She was light and delicate. Every expression of joy was truly grateful, and drew an effort from her entire body. Finally, the hands of the lucky lover--another woman! massaged over milky abdomen, and rubbed in sweet deep.

Anasterian leaned around and looked into the room, unable to resist.

"Annie!" for only little Roan Sunthraze could get away with being so unabashedly informal, "Why are you spying on my cousin like that? Anthene is a convalescent, you know!"

The chamber maid--for that is who had been administering the lady's nightly bath, screamed. Anasterian was instantly confused. So the two of them weren't... but the maiden had been dreamy and smiling?

"Annie, don't be stupid, Anthene has a fever and she's delirious. Shh, if anyone hears us, I will finally have my hide worn out. And no one wants to upset Father when Scratchdance is about to drop yet another failed chick." The door shut. Anasterian was astonished until the most slender forbidden look at the prone woman was sealed away forever. Had she been waving to him?

Roan took away the Prince's wine. "You should go."

"Should I? Really?"

"I don't always effect the best serious tone, being Roan, but this is most certainly a blow against the House of Sunthraze. We just don't do that sort of thing here."

"Oh, haha, I see. What sort of thing don't Sunthrazes do in their own homes?"

No, it was not a joke awaiting punchline. Prince Anasterian bowed ceremoniously at the waist, gave every apology possible, and left the house. Trust, that he came back again at the first opportunity.

Anthene'alas provided it not long after. She sent him a letter.

_Dear Prince of Quel'thalas,_

_I doubt your Majesty will disagree on the following point: you owe me a conversation._

_-Anthene'alas of Sunthraze_

He was afraid to interpret the message one way or another. If she was soliciting him then there was far too much left to be desired in the letter. Where was the temptation, the renewal of previous images? Then, Anasterian admonished himself for being so vain: it was surely the bark of an angry woman. In that case, he should not answer it. It might lead to blackmail or worse… But, really, he'd already made up his mind to go back. The small mental argument was really an exercise in satisfying royal conscience. Sorn had long advised Anasterian on guarding against natural propulsions towards cold-blooded heartlessness characteristic of the Sunstrider line. Alright so well, mostly characteristic of himself.

Anasterian was shown into the drawing room, and Anthene'alas sat with hands folded lightly in her lap. She refused any refreshment when it was offered. "We haven't time."

Anasterian began by apologizing and offering a box of truffles he'd sought during the course of the day. Anthene's silence stole away the Prince's confidence, though.

"What… in the fel… did you think you were doing?"

"Um. Well, naturally—"

"Natural? What is natural? An ailing woman who begged her maid to open a window and a door—anything—to keep comfortable. Feeling comfortable among allies in my family home, that is what is natural. But being spied upon and taken advantage of is horrifying. Have you told anyone else about what you saw?"

Anasterian became angry. "Of course not. I _am_ a gentlemen, no matter what you think. And I'd had wine too, had you considered that—"

Anthene began laughing. "Oh, Roan was right, you _are_ so easy to fool. Haha! Look at you, insulted and injured pride… no, of course I understand. It was an accident. There was no harm done."

"There wasn't?"

"No…" her smile faded, "Though, it was important for me to speak to you, face to face. I hope that—as some women at Court tend to do—you don't mistake my easy behavior for some kind of invitation though. I would not endanger your heart like that. But this is all for my uncle Lord Sunthraze, you see. I can't be the one to alter his business association with a Sunstrider. And I don't want to break your friendship with my cousin Roan, he so likes you. But, I myself, could not be liked. I am, that is, I could never become engaged to anyone, Anasterian."

"Yes, Roan told me you were bedridden… or, should be."

Heavy silence settled between them. "…before, or after you spied upon me?"

Anasterian stumbled over his words, then settled on it being after he'd trespassed. Anthene played with her fingers. "It was good of you to pity me then. I had no idea… if Roan had bothered to tell me that you were already aware of how useless I was, then I might not have bothered with the letter. Here, I thought you had the worst impression of our family. And that's the last thing I wanted to become for my uncle, more of a burden."

"Anthene'alas, is it your opinion that unwell people have no charm nor use?"

"What was your true opinion of invalids before you saw me laid out some days ago, exactly as the Sun made me?"

He admitted that it was not a good one.

"Then let's not pretend." She looked tired, but forced on her smile, "Lord Sunthraze could not have been troubled with a scandalous event, and it was mostly my fault, so that is why you aren't speaking with the master of the house. Roan is too young and silly to realize this could have caused a problem. If only my parents hadn't left me with so little…" Anthene shut her eyes suddenly. Her head drifted aside, but her fingers held fast to the armrests of her high-back chair.

"Madam, shall I call your nurse?" he came near.

"I am just overwhelmed suddenly... Roan Sunthraze the younger had told me you'd written him letters. I thought you'd asked about my heritage, and my inheritance... oh, he fooled both of us. I was very worried about you, Annie. I feared you'd become furious with me for leading you on, and rightly so. Oh, I'm so sorry. How stupid of me to call you something familiar…"

Anasterian was aware that he had not implied so much. Anthene was capable of upsetting herself. He placed his present on the table and knelt by her chair. "No, don't excuse yourself. It's a silly thing Roan started, and you're welcome to take up the affectionate name too. I don't mind you calling me that."

"It is amusing... I find this all amusing. And now a woman with nothing to hope for has been waited upon by a Prince of Quel'thalas."

"I came here a few nights ago about a Hawkstrider. I wanted to buy one outside of the family stables that would anger my father... but I am pleased it has helped me to find you. So, then, I take it that I walked in on a sponge-bath?"

Anthene swallowed and nodded. Yes, she was fair. Frail. When was the last time she had been outside? Anasterian reached for her other hand and kissed it.

"What are you doing?" her eyes drifted open once more.

"You move me."

"No, you feel sorry for me. Or, you're taking advantage… But if you would do me one favor, Annie, should you wish to continue to be an acquaintance. Let us be friends, first, before you decide whether or not I am some grand person."

Anasterian felt that was just.

"Also, do not tell Lord Sunthraze I asked you here, or worse, that I came downstairs at all. He only has humor for his son." Then, she squeezed his hand. Anasterian was lost in how nice it felt for her to touch him back, and did not realize right away that Anthene was in terrible pain.

Anasterian shouted, picked her up and went out of the room with her. The maid was alarmed, and showed him the way. Once upstairs, Anasterian tucked in Anthene'alas, and then the servant woman pushed past to do her work. His first reverant distance.

The servant's name was Marie. "Oh, she just over extended herself, is all. The chair itself probably pinched her, though it is a good chair. She hasn't got much meat on her, to sit up all by herself, and anything hurts."

"What, exactly, ails her?"

"Any number of things... but as you saw today, she can summon incredible determination if she feels something must be set right."

"That sounds familiar. My father and I just finished a tour of Dalaran, and there are many skilled Highborne working with the Humans. There is a new blood-art, where armored soldiers fight with Light magic. Paladins, I think. But I found it mostly, well, stupid."

"Ah yes, Humans tend to be. And anyways, Dalaran is too far away to be important."

"That is exactly how I felt, about being dragged there. But, my father saw good in it. It was a chance to meet Prince Terenas, and some of the other Human gentry with an oath to our people. Marie, will she really be alright? I'd like to call here again and make sure."

"Oh, but you can't come for her, when this whole thing was meant to be secret, and you can't come for no reason at all, either. Hrm. We've a few more hours before the Master returns from burying dearest Scratchdance. I can help you think of a good excuse over tea."

She poured them steaming cups of sweet chamomile, back in the drawing room. Anasterian couldn't help but ask why the bird was being buried. Marie expressed sorrow that it was discovered Scratchdance had eaten many of its own eggs, and that the latest chick was only defending itself from its mother. Some humor there was in the House of Sunthraze, that a prize winning mount should eat her own valuable chicks to enforce her vain standing! So many costly visits from breeding stud-cocks wasted! But the last chick, he'd been gelded by the stupid stablehand--who was also a rumored vengeful bastard relation to the Lord of the House--though, in any case, it would survive. Anasterian wondered what would happen to the lone offspring.

"That is to be your new mount, my Prince. Lord Sunthraze felt that if the prestigious line should end after so many hundreds of years, it would best end with you. Unless you object?"

Anasterian laughed uncomfortably. "Well, by the time it's matured and I'm done with training it, my own son would be of riding age. I'm afraid I must decline a rare model, in the interest of some of the more mature stock."

"Oh, sir! My Lord would be so displeased that I told you, and then you declined early on my account. Nor would it do to _pretend_, he'll know. Please, I beg you to take it, or at least have it stabled here, out of your way, and then delivered at the proper time. A gift for your first-born then?"

"A gift for Anthene'alas. That complex proposal will have to be the reason for my coming again, for now I fear I'd better quickly quit the House of Sunthraze. You've put liquor in this tea! I don't think I can start to count the many games going on here."

She giggled as if it were that simple to let go. "Oh, me. It's a madhouse, I know. Until later, then, my Prince."

Anasterian mounted up and pushed his graying bird mount eagerly down the country lane.

He peered over his shoulder at the waving servant Marie. She looked to be clutching her stomach, and holding the doorpost with what, he assumed, was overpowering laughter. The Prince of Quel'thalas considered that he'd either been just swindled into paying board for a mentally deficient and gelded Hawkstrider chick these next ten years, or that Anthene'alas had been dangled in front of his royal nose for a particular reason.

"If there is the slightest chance Anthene'alas isn't really sick…" he mused. Another exercise in compassion would have been useful here, but not all illnesses—like the one Anasterian presently fancied Anthene to be faking—can be cured by sheer force of will. Some are too foul and run too deep in veins. Anyone who befriended Kael'thas many years later would agree, this was the lone flaw in the Sunstrider line.


	4. A wedding and then a celebration

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Four: A wedding and then a celebration**

_Silvermoon, year 1001._

_Dearest diary, my plan is thus. To emulate the late Queen Anthene'alas in every subtle way. King Anasterian could not keep his gaze from me when, at last, we met. Roan, you see, failed to mention that he had befriended the King as a boy. The embarassing details of their arrangement he refuses to share with me, though I suspect--it being Lord Roan Sunthraze, master of the champion Hawkstriders of Quel'thalas since his father's death, is also the most ridiculously charming man I have ever met. And do you know, he confessed to me as we left the palace, that he would have courted me himself by now, if not for my being a virgin._

_I am sad that I ever told Roan this. He just won't stop teasing me about it! But, my horrid watchdog family is of the old ways, I was sent off to a girls' school, and could not have quit my 'disposition' if I wanted to. And soon, I will be married off to someone, and pussyfooting around won't do. So, I am stuck. However, after meeting the King, I am starting to believe what my mother always said. I may be able to turn my precious honor into something... _

_Young Prince Kael'thas will have his seventeenth birthday at the end of this year, and he hasn't got a proper mount, by his father's standards (Suddenly, I see how odd it was for me to transition from the previous theme to this one. Oh, how awful I am!). This Hawkstrider was the underlying purpose of Roan's visit. I spied a great deal many beautiful creatures in the Royal Livery as we strolled through, but Roan nodded at Anasterian's estimations as cooly as if he were not the product of many generations of professional Hawkstrider breeders by any means. But, I suppose it's more that Anasterian owes his family the strange favor. I like him, the King. When Anasterian is sad, it isn't ever for very long. He also has the finest tattooed veins I have ever seen at Court! Pitch black. I think it makes him look quite the rogue, I never thought the King himself would indulge such a style. I was noticed for my most notable charms, as is natural, but to catch him, I will have to tempt Anasterian with something more substantial. That is where the late Anthene'alas comes in. For now, however, I have made a pleasant enough impression, but the next step is all up to Roan. He's embarrassed by the debts of his family and is hesitant to visit with Anasterian again. He does not have the money to keep up with any of the true Lords and Ladies of the Royal Court, I suspect. If I can reassure him without letting on how I know about his late father's gambling... we may have something. I could become his financier, easily. And then, the dynamic duo can get to work at the Sunspire, not just alongside the Sunwell on lazy days. We'll both be married high and well by next year._

_Oh! And Roan called the King 'Annie.' It was a slip but I did hear it. How absolutely precious._

What was precious about King Anasterian the Black-blooded? The man rumored to have once lifted a razor blade from his tongue and attacked the last of the ancient Sun-Cult priestesses? Blaize put his wife's diary back in the drawer when she entered their apartment.

"Oh, my handsome husband, look!"

Blaize was horrified at the white make-up and blonde wig Lady Novia had styled on Dannox. "It's so... awful."

"Well, Novia is a striking resemblance to Queen Saturna, and I think you shall get your punishment for that comment when you see her. Come on, now."

Celestia was still such a flirt after all these years. She coiled her arm around Dannox and sat on one side of the coach with him. Blaize sat alone on his side. Their carriage bumped along the cobblestones of the city while Blaize looked outside and scratched his chin.

"Read anything interesting lately, General?"

Blaize's eyes glared up over a fake yawn and challenged Dannox to shut his fat mouth.

"Hrm? Oh, what have you started reading, dear?"

"Nothing you'd be interested in."

"And just why not?"

"It's an epic tale of humility, chastity, and the hero getting just the right girl. There's religion, even. No evil, busty queens at all."

Celestia thrust her almost bare chest up, and pretended to adjust whatever elaborate underthing held that sort of abundant, oiled cleavage in place. Nothing else was said. Dannox might have drooled a little though.

_One year ago..._

Malfurion Stormrage took Lady Vashj by the hand, and the ten people gathered in Coilfang Reservoir clapped for the happy couple. He bowed ceremoniously at the waist, came up just as gently, and met his partner emerging from her own beautiful gesture.

"Oh, Malfurion, doesn't Belorim look so charming tonight, in front of all our guests? Exactly like his father."

"I understand, my Queen, that you are upset with me. But, please, do not speak to me about my brother's children when I am already trying so hard."

Vashj sniffed a perfect elven nose, and twirled on two bejeweled feet. She hummed.

"I raise you one absent wife. This evening isn't perfect without Belorim's wife here and you know it."

"I eat Tauren, I don't feed them."

The happy couple finished their first dance, and the audience clapped lightly. Vashj raised her perfect singing voice, and elegantly invited them all to dance. Malfurion spied Illidan across the room and excused himself while Vashj enjoyed a conversation with Lady Novia and whomever her hungry-looking date was. Oh, she'd clearly bought this Dannox person's entire outfit. Other than Novia and immediate family, all the rest of the wedding guests were servants.

Illidan and Malurion stopped short of shaking hands. Each folded his arms. Illidan said, "Congratulations, we are all finally convinced of the Naga's civility, and the general peace in Outland. Imagine someone so self-righteous as you are, marrying a Naga."

"Vashj is a Naga in name-only. And you said The Curse couldn't be reversed. Pah."

"I said I didn't want it reversed, when Vashj looked so good as she was. All of the Naga did."

"Spoken like a true dictator who took full advantage of the nautical prowess of our accursed bretheren during the last war."

"No, the last war was with Arthas in Northrend. I helped Warchief Thrall to end it."

"Yes, yes, you and Kael'thas both cleared of your crimes against Azeroth and Outland. Convenient."

"It would have been a shame, Malfurion, if my son had grown up without a father."

Malfurion paced a bit, then came back, shoved his brother and chanced it. "You may be bigger than me, but don't you dare pretend that affair with Queen Saturna isn't scandalous and a true testament of who you are, beneath it all."

Illidan insisted innocently, "I never slept with her. Not when she was Lady Whiteblade, and not now, as Queen of Quel'thalas."

"But yet, Belorim is convinced Queen Saturna is his mother."

"Because he wants answers, we all do. The truth is, I don't remember which of Kael'thas' soldiers it was, or if that person even survived the war in Outland. The Sunfury fought especially hard while under General Blaize."

"Who is a banished man, a villain! Along with Queen Celestia, Kael'thas' own stepmother, and anyone else the King doesn't happen to like!"

"The Night Elves and the Blood Elves have made peace. Who knows about the Highborne, but this is a new age, Malfurion. Azeroth has ended its wars in Outland, in Northrend, and finally, and any conflicts with itself. There is no Alliance, there is no Horde. No, I don't want to open old wounds. We have all been forgiven our worst crimes."

Malfurion sighed that his brother was right.

"Though, I'm not apologizing for shagging Vashj over and over. You should have left her a Naga for the whip-tail, alone." Then Illidan clapped his twin hard on the back and strode back to Tyrande. She greeted her husband with a kiss.

Malfurion flushed with anger, but Belorim found his way over then. "You made a brave groom, Malfurion."

"My deepest thanks—"

"Though, now that I've satisfied the invitation and seen you marry my godmother, had a bite to eat, and a drink, I am going to leave out of protest. My gift was left by the door."

Belorim then strutted on cloven hooves to the edge of the dance floor, submerged beneath the cool water and floating white candles that ebbed just there, cast a blue spell on himself and disappeared completely beneath.

"MALFURION!!! Where is my godson going? Belorim can't be seen… _fleeing _a family function, you fool!"

Malfurion changed into a seal and swam after his nephew. These days, no one forced a Naga to get wet, if they didn't choose to be.

As a shaman, Belorim was master of the elements, and he could hold his breath a great deal longer under water than Malfurion could. Even as a seal, it was necessary to surface. But if Malfurion caught him first, they would never get quite so far. They chased all through the winding pipe tunnel that led up and out of Coilfang Reservoir, breached into the lagoon proper in a spray of bubbles. Malfurion tugged at Belorim, but couldn't get a grip with his seal's mouth, and not hurt the young man Vashj had claimed as a godson. Malfurion became a Night Elf man again and threw his arms around Belorim.

The Blood Elf-Demon fought back. The two wrestled under water. It was when Malfurion began to drown that they finally made peace and got to the surface. Belorim cast a water-walking spell and lay Malfurion down on the soft waves.

"You're thousands of years old, and a Druid, but you almost drowned to death." Belorim laughed when Malfurion started breathing.

"Your father is an ass."

"I know." Belorim sat, crosslegged. "But I feel the same way about my godmother, I'm warning you. Why are you even with her?"

"Why is anyone with anyone, I love Vashj. She may be demanding but... she is beautiful, and powerful, and charming. She really wants for you to accept her, Bim."

"Stop it. I don't like people calling me that."

Malfurion sat to match him. Belorim considered for a bit, and revived a softly glowing lightning shield. "I think you're with her against your will."

"So, suddenly you're a shaman and you think you know everything? Again, I'm thousands of years old, more powerful than an Arch-druid--"

"It's an enchantment. She's seduced you with magic."

"When would Vashj have planned that?"

"The when is hard to place, but we know that it did take five years."

Malfurion felt it was too specific, and was compelled to ask further questions. Belorim laughed at them all, told Malfurion that as a druid, he had a very meager understanding of the passage of time. The real breadth of space between pristine events was like a flow. Reality had layers, like warm and cold currents floating over one another, affecting one another.

"You describe life as if it were but a dream."

"Yours may have been an emerald one, but Farseers know this life to be made of blue energy."

The peaceful lagoon around them seemed to accent the notion. Malfurion smiled at such an inspiring youth. "I see one thing in you that isn't a bad trait of your father's."

"Please share it; I don't see such a thing in myself."

"Why not, doesn't your wife love you, Belorim? What do you think she sees in you?"

Belorim shrugged. "My future is interesting, I suppose. She and her parents were trained by Thrall."

"I see. But there is more to a man than his deeds. It's his make which informs him."

"If that is the case, then King Anasterian would have remained condemned, history properly documented his demise as an assassination by someone in the Court or the Convocation of Silvermoon... but, no. Arthas brought a war to the city and the Blood Elves remember him as some patriotic martyr."

"You've studied Blood Elf history with real acumen."

"I don't know who my mother is. It's all I can do to console myself."

"At one time you insisted it was Queen Saturna."

Belorim looked especially forlorn now. "This is too painful. I am leaving this party because my wife is offended I was even manipulated this far, into showing up without her. And so I am leaving you to face Vashj's wrath. But, before I go, Malfurion, I will make a fair exchange." he leaned forward, chin in palm. "She took me to Nazjatar when I was about four years old."

"Yes, I know that."

"You know that I was the only survivor of a shipwreck and that Vashj just happened to be there to save me at the right time. But that's an incredible story, isn't it? What I remember from my time with the Naga and Queen Azshara is that the storm was bigger than anything I had ever seen. It rocked the entire world. I believed that truly, until Vashj brought me back to the surface and said I was just a child, imagining. I also believed that years had gone by, I felt it, but my father--your brother--insisted, when he received me, that I was still four years old. Tyrande and Father fretted over my return, thanked Elune that I came back and began planning my entire life. But, becoming a shaman and meeting May again freed me."

"How so? I always thought you running off to Thunderbluff and marrying like that was a teenaged act of defiance, coming from you."

Belorim stood. "Yesterday, with the help of Warchief Thrall and my wife May, we envisioned the truth. I am, in fact, twenty years old, not fifteen. Despite what Illidan or Tyrande think, it was a mature and right decision."

Malfurion laughed. "Oh, this is fun! Yes, becoming a shaman was a great change for you, Belorim, I congratulate you. Look at how you've rationalized turning your back on the Kal'dorei. I mean, wouldn't you notice the difference if that were true?"

Belorim was deathly serious. "That is exactly it. I do notice the difference. It's as if someone's stolen years from my life. I always sensed I was ahead of what others were telling me, expecting of me. Only now did I learn it was exactly so... dramatic."

"This is silly."

"And silly has inspired me to leave Darnassus _and _Zangarmarsh. I don't know what your wife did to me, but I never speak to her again. Tell Vashj that also."

Malfurion stood there and panicked while Belorim morphed into a ghostwolf for traveling. "This is an unfair trade, your godmother will never sleep with me again, never even look at me after I deliver insulting news."

"Why not blame it on Father? That seemed to work these last several thousand years. Think on what I've told you. Vashj has worked some kind of terrible magic. It has severely altered my life, and who knows what else? All for what? So that she can be Elven again and marry a Stormrage? She is a vain, and evil witch, and she never did stand trial in Darnassus along with Kael'thas and Illidan. That's too perfect. May and I are going to right this, Malfurion, and soon."

Then, the ghost wolf padded across the water, rippling bright moonbeams, and disappeared into the mists of Zangarmarsh.

Malfurion went back down below to think of some lie to at least force his wedding reception to end well, when the rest of the night with Vashj was going to be certain torture. Hadn't their years of courtship after The Curse lifted been tumultuous enough?

_The present day..._

The Solar Festival is an ancient celebration that Highborne enjoy at mid summer to mark the solstice. If it can be had in a glass house, then it is. If gawkers or immature people they should be kept away the guests inside wear sheer cloth and bright colors. There were many giggling faces pressed up against the glass windows, and the street beyond was packed with interested onlookers. Every person within the decorated greenhouse strolled proudly as beams of bold sunlight passed straight through to reveal many outdated birthday suits. It did not matter, however. The United Elven Social Club was determined to have an impressive event.

The crowd of Kal'dorei, Blood Elves and Highborne screamed in a frenzy when Dannox entered the room looking so near to King Anasterian it was scary. Queen Celestia was beside him, and she had also coached Dannox on every gesture and exclamation:

"I'll hack the Humans to pieces myself before I give up this throne or these women. Err, THIS woman!"

Those famous last words had no doubt encouraged Prince Arthas to leave Quel'thalas in shambles before that year was out. Celestia trailed her abundant glittering white skirt and flicked her wrist with the air of who she had once been.

Blaize tried to walk as calmly as possible beside Lady Novia, another Night Elf, floating like Saturna Whiteblade beside him. She wore the rumored white cotillion dress the present Queen of Quel'thalas had worn to first greet then Prince Kael'thas at the Black Temple. But this Saturna walked with knowledgeable confidence, there was not a vapid aura about her at all. She was better and smarter than his ex-wife. Vereesa Windrunner may have her Silver Covenant, but Lady Novia ruled the united Elven cause with dainty iron fist: Blood Elves were allowed to join the struggle, but only the best of them were to be admitted. Lady Novia smiled at the crowd, kept Blaize entranced, and set a sharp eye on Dannox groping Celestia's bottom—quite out of character for this late-empire version of Anasterian. In those days, either their royal divorce or his public destruction was imminent.

"I am doing a good job, I take it. You can't keep your breath off of my cheek."

Blaize checked himself. "I'm sorry."

"No, I am. What did you have for breakfast, rank steak? Go take a mint." And Novia dropped the old General off at the refreshment table. He suddenly remembered why he never made a strenuous effort to impress her. Though, Blaize had the server make him a large cup of punch. Why had his wife ever suggested he may have a chance with Novia, when clearly… Blaize considered how open he'd been to playing along since that false revelation. Celestia was no fool. Well, at least he was more appropriately covered in his official General's uniform. Though, a few people did stand out and put their reminiscent efforts to shame.

The whole party swarmed to the Anasterian lookalike, and Blaize hated to admit that Dannox was handsome everywhere, if his transparent costume was silly. Dressing up like the late King should have been offensive on its own, at least Blaize thought so. But times had changed… the younger generation of Elves, the ones who thought re-uniting the Thalassian and Darnassian empires was a good idea, thought themselves as capable as Farseer Thrall who had united the Alliance and Horde years earlier.

"Are you really General Blaize?"

Blaize did not want to turn around. The person sounded like another young, arrogant, feckless… "Banished and in the flesh." Then he stopped. The kid looked like Kael'thas.

The two men seemed to come to an understanding right then. There would be no explanations or sympathy. Knowing who they did in common was punishment enough.

"…Belorim?"

"No, that's my rumored half-brother. Though he looks nothing like me."

Blaize wondered how he could ever make such a mistake. Belorim was Illidan's son, and everyone knew that. Blaize suspected he was getting old, possibly.

A bow, "Of course. Good Afternoon, Prince Chao'thas."

"You were almost my father."

"Excuse me?"

"My mother was married to you, wasn't she? It's all my father, the King, ever talks about."

Blaize was ready to ask if the young man had any special message from the King, and if not, then to please accept what was beginning to feel like a mutual divorce from the kingdom.

"He would."

Prince Chao'thas nodded slightly, and Blaize was inclined to follow him about the room. "I suspect that I'll have other brothers and sisters soon, all Sunstrider bastards."

Blaize sighed, and just drank.

"But I suppose this makes you like my bastard father."

"Your what--"

"The other secret father who was almost mine. Mother almost kept you, she told me."

"Saturna still speaks of me?"

"My mother the Queen is a lonely woman."

"Kael'thas takes poor care of her, I'm not surprised to hear it. Nor am I her hero any longer. Was there anything else, Prince Chao'thas? My wife—well, one of them—has got to be calling for me in that overpowering throng over there."

"No General, you'll go when I'm ready."

Yes, another Sunstrider male, indeed.

"I don't like my mother being in Silvermoon, or at her estate in the country. She doesn't do well at all, she and Kael'thas are practically estranged, having their own affairs. Divorce is the real solution."

"Divorce would have beheaded King Anasterian faster than he was slain by Scourge and Arthas. Don't be so sure of your point. Besides, my Prince, your father banished me from the kingdom. I can't have anything more to do with it if I am to survive. I certainly couldn't ever displease Kael'thas unless I don't like the allowance he gives my Celestia."

Prince Chao'thas pointed over at Dannox who was making many of the ladies swoon with his rehearsed authentic Anasterian speeches. "The man is immortal, General Blaize. Suffering forever. A mockery. I don't want that for my mother."

Blaize thought of Saturna then and she was blue. Literally blue-skinned. Or was it the water all around her, the sad forest? Why would he think that? He came to with Prince Chao'thas snapping loudly in his face.

"Will you help me or not? My offer is more than generous."

Now Blaize felt very, very old. He'd missed out on some epic plot. "Oh, this is foolishness and a half. I'm done with the Sunstriders. I'm married to one, was abused by the others… no thank you. Being the man of the hour, for one hour this afternoon and then living the rest of my life in peace is preferable to all the hell you and your forebears put me through."

Chao'thas frowned. One difference from his father. He could manage an ugly pout that must have come from Saturna. Though, she would not have taught him to be so repugnant about it. Saturna always had an adorable little…

Chao'thas had gone.

"Blaize? My handsome husband, you must mingle if you are to have any sort of effect."

"I just mingled with the latest Prince of Quel'thalas, didn't you see? I would have introduced you, but he asked if I would please seduce his mother, then I said no, and then he stomped off in a royal huff."

Blaize felt Celestia grip his arm with sudden passion. "You… declined?"

He only drank punch and gazed at his wife. She was in a version of her old wedding dress, rose red with embroidered flowers—five in total—floating over what mattered. And she had not beeen married on a day of the Solar Festival. Blaize felt himself smiling at how ruthless Celestia had been to bait Anasterian, and now how far it had actually got her. Dannox was right. It had resulted in nothing more than a public service for all the lusty sorts in the room.

"Oh, I see, you're drunk."

"Hm, what's that, darling? Oh, there's nothing in this, though. It's punch. Are you suggesting that I have to be drunk to show you any kind of attention? I thought I was a good husband, in public."

"No, the problem is that you are hardly ever a naughty husband, in private."

Blaize pretended that he could not possibly be aware of how dashing he looked in his uniform, which irritated Celestia. "You flirt best with the man nearest you, I take it. I hope you don't bring Dannox home with us, we might see steam coming out of your ears, in such a small apartment."

She went back to polite conversation. "I don't think I like the youngest Prince of Quel'thalas. He's sort of… petulant. Has he at least got any magical acumen to recommend himself?"

"Prince Chao'thas is not able to re-enchant your breasts, if that is what you mean—"

Celestia stormed past her husband and found Dannox right away. Blaize finished his punch, and then found someone with a tray of liquor, and tried to forget that another Sunstrider was already hoping to ruin his life.

_That evening…_

Dannox kissed Celestia with something like anger. She pressed herself against him in the tiny closet, begged him to finish. He was failing to deliver and it was infuriating him.

"It's this stupid costume."

"No, no, dear, I love the costume. Keep it on, don't change."

Dannox laughed powerfully at her all of a sudden, and she shushed him. Lady Novia's voice carried somewhere outside. Still, ever bad, he whispered, "You're still madly in love with him, aren't you?"

"No, not Blaize, not at all."

Dannox scratched his blonde wig. "I was talking about your belated Anasterian. Wow, that possibly killed the mood forever."

"Oh, Danny… Please don't tell him I said that."

"Only if you won't call me Danny ever again. That was never my nickname."

Novia seemed closer to the closet now. She wasn't an idiot. They waited forever before starting up again.

"Dannox is such an odd name to begin with. If it wasn't Danny, then what could it possibly have been?"

"Big Dan. But you're not allowed to call me that either."

Celestia cried into his shoulder. "You don't understand, your best friend won't sleep with me, you'd be doing him a favor when I come home humming and not bothering him for a thing. Just one ride, Dannox and Blaize will be free for a week."

"I'm starting to see that you would want me once every week."

"Excuse me! I believe you encouraged me, Dannox. And I was agreeable to you as well. Don't tell me that you're 'not in love with' Novia too. We committed people—to law, love, or money—we must do what we can."

Dannox gave her nothing at all, fixed his pants, and then opened the door. Celestia was forced to hide in all the cloaks and coats on hangers. Then, the closet closed up again and she was left alone in the dark to wait depart innocently on her own when it was less suspicious.

While she waited and cried, and cursed Dannox and Blaize, and Anasterian, and Kael'thas and Chao'thas and Saturna and everyone else, Celestia eventually came to the conclusion that writing in her diary might ease her distress. She would have to break her fast of self-reflection—the last time she'd written must have been over a year ago...

The door snatched open again, and General Blaize definitely saw her, reached around and got his coat. He then closed the door back on his wife.

Celestia beat on the door and screamed first, before she got her own cloak, calmed down, and joined him.

"Don't you even care that Dannox and I slept together only a few moments ago?" she said to him in the carriage. Solar Festivals ended after sunset.

"Let's face it, dearest. You are a liar who has about as good a chance at sleeping with Dannox as you did the real King Anasterian when you two first met. The poor man may be a whore, but, like the best of men, he enjoys substance."

Celestia was tugging her cloak tight across her arms. For an enchanted city, autumn night was so cold in Dalaran. "I never did tell you anything of the sort about Anasterian. How did you…"

Blaize just smiled at her. "Oh, you poor, poor thing. Frigid cold inside and out. Ah, well, I suppose even you could use some warming up, like the rest of us. Would you like to have some pity nuptials tonight, dear?"

Celestia was angry already. She felt inclined to say no.

"What a shame. I adore you in that dress, but if you truly don't want to…"

"General Nathaniel Blaize. By your own definition, you are among the worst sorts of men: the swindlers, the cheaters, the fiends, now that you've just solicited me based on a flimsy garment."

"You know very well that is _not _how I meant it."

"But yet you asked me to pity you."

Blaize murmured angrily to himself.

"Tangle with me if you like, Nathaniel, but do so with full awareness that I am the only survivor of the old regime. Ask yourself why Sorn converted to the Sunfury, and Liadrin? Weakness. Lorth'remar may have resigned himself to the Horde with the others… but I am the only political figure so wounded by the old ways who still exists, untarnished, and worse yet for my enemies, empowered. The Highborne have gone their way, the Blood Elves still yet another. But Celestia Sunstrider, she will blaze her own path, in spite of what Anasterian has stolen away."

"Maybe so, Celestia, but I've sent Blood Elves more treacherous than you marching into battle. And willfully going on the front lines, too!" then Blaize returned to looking ruefully out of the carriage window.

_Dearest diary,_

_I am very pleased to be keeping an account of my life once more. I so loved being able to reflect and confide in something so perfect, and will certainly enjoy doing so again, oldest friend. Though you are elegant and unable to disappoint me, I fear I must disappoint you in this first entry after so long. For, after the Solar Festival today, Blaize looking so irresistibly handsome, and Dannox so obviously well hung in Anasterian's old costume, and Lady Novia so perfectly drunk and out of the way on what I slipped her, I came out with only one satisfaction for the evening:_

_Complete and irrefutable proof that my husband, General Nathaniel Blaize, is an ass._

_Good night._

Blaize laughed to himself when he read the entry later. Somehow, he found it charming of her.

Author's Note:

By the way…

Blaize was banished 10 years ago.

At that time, Kael'thas had just returned to Silvermoon, having been away in Outland for 5 years (two years with Illidan and 3 years at Tempest Keep).

Kael'thas first left for Outland after his father Anasterian died. Anasterian died when he was almost 50 years old,

and he married Celestia twenty years earlier.

Anasterian was 20 years old when he wed Anthene'alas, and they remained married for a decade (he was single for many years afterward).

Kael'thas was four years old when his mother died. He was quite the miracle baby, considering Anthene's poor health, and his conception so late in that marriage.

Celestia's age at present more or less marks the entire span of this story: at least 50 years.


	5. Annie the Douche

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Five: Annie the Douche**

Blaize crawled into bed with Celestia the next morning. Usually, he slept on a cot in the spare room. He did not explain himself, he just handed her coffee and opened up the newspaper.

"Yes?"

"I see you're writing in your diary. Good for you. Anything about me in there?"

She was right to feel suspicious. "I would never write about someone so low as you."

He kissed her cheek and started reading his newspaper. Some strange whirring and then knocking noise came through the wall. Gnomes, ugh.

"Are you spying on me as I write?"

The truth was, Celestia was usually out with Lady Novia scheming at this hour on Mondays. Blaize was sorely missing his chance to read her salacious journal.

"Well, you have such an elegant hand."

Celestia squinted an eye at him, then adjusted her reading glasses and kept going. "As one might expect of a woman trying to bed her friend's lover, Lady Novia and I had a falling out. I give her two weeks to take it as a compliment, when your friend Dannox is oh so handsome and clever, and she is lucky to have him."

"He sees whores on a regular basis too. And they're the best kind, Celestia. One legged would-be opera singers."

She made a face. "You're just being mean to me." She wrote a good deal more, then, "You know, Blaize, you could take up a lover too. I wouldn't tell on you, dear. I like Kael'thas as little as you do."

"And I trust you as little as does Kael'thas."

"Oh, why do I bother? I so try to make you happy…"

"If that was the case, then you would not have forced me to marry you in the first place."

"Excuse me, sir!" she was always doing this, "You and I had an agreement. We were to get married, use your forged document signed by his Majesty, _and_ Lady Liadrin to get onto the throne and keep Kael'thas out. But no, your perverted friend Magnus just had to be a Bloodknight working for…ugh, what's the point? Kael'thas planned to get us like this. We're lucky to be alive."

"That's how I look at it." He took her coffee away and began kissing her. She accused him of actually coming into what had become her bedroom for romance. Blaize let her think what she wanted, if it helped. Later, while Celestia dozed so perfectly happy, Blaize picked up her diary and began reading. He tried very hard to get exactly where he had left off before, but the damned thing wouldn't let him. Celestia adding new entries caused the entire book to re-shuffle itself like a deck of possessed cards.

_Thirty-three years ago…_

Sister Liadrin lowered her book and stylus. Advisor Sorn stopped writing as well, over at his desk in the foyer. King Anasterian boldly waited for her answer.

"I… well, it wouldn't be appropriate."

"Why not?"

"Because… it is not up to me. If you would like to make things better with Queen Celestia, then only you can decide."

"But she wants to have a procedure done. As a woman, do you think it will actually help?"

Sorn went, "If I might interject?"

"No, you may not. Liadrin, I trust you completely. And you are a moral woman, a good woman. What do you suggest?"

"I…" she looked desperately to Advisor Sorn, but he burrowed himself in signing papers again. "Well, I… if it's what she wants? Really, it has to do with what will make you happy inside, my King."

Anasterian scratched his jaw. "I guess we're going to Dalaran, then." He leaned forward and kissed Liadrin on the cheek. "Though, it's not as if you need such a thing. I always enjoyed you as you are."

Sorn had not heard it. He could not have. Liadrin prayed to the Light that he hadn't. When the King was surely gone, both of them got the courage to talk of it again.

"He's crazy!" Sorn blurt out. "That is only going to end one way, and I know it."

"I don't understand him. He is so capable and attractive. He could have any woman in the empire, but he picks her. And it's not as if Celestia doesn't already look like perfection, speak like perfection… screw like perfection."

Sorn snatched off his glasses. "Oh no, not you too. That word, that is a word Anasterian taught you."

Liadrin blushed. "He just shares a great deal with me."

"You're in love with him."

Liadrin insisted that she was a recently cloistered priestess and that anything of the sort would be a sin.

Sorn stacked papers. "I thought you were such an intelligent girl."

"I am a woman." Liadrin asserted. "And it doesn't take a fool to fall for Anasterian Sunstrider. That man is precious. Do you know anything of his love for Anthene'alas?"

Sorn found himself sitting across from Liadrin. They shared stories and memories Anasterian had confided. It caused them to laugh together, cry, hold hands. But then Liadrin glowed over Anasterian again and Sorn removed what was a humble hand, that of the King's servant.

"Looking back," Sorn said, "I am amazed at how Anasterian came to love Anthene'alas at all. She was so gentle and kind. Absolutely selfless, completely vulnerable. And I beg you not to tell my employer so, though I doubt he'll disagree, Anasterian is completely self-absorbed, ruthless, and scandalous."

Liadrin sighed. "I don't know that I agree with you. Just because a man is rightfully vain about his appearance or prowess—"

"It must have been about control. An innocent lamb who had no idea how much he was benefitting. When I think of her, shut up all alone in that room and sick while he lived and lavished praise upon himself. I don't think there were any affairs, no there certainly weren't, but if she had lived any longer… I bet there would have been. I'm not sure if one can say that such a love was perfect. And I mean no disrespect to the departed lady. Perhaps, in turn, something about her tempered him. He would shut himself up in the room with her too, you know, and I would hear them laughing together. Nor was I any stranger to how attentive he was. Anasterian was drawn to her, in every way—to put it gently. In fact, do you know how they met? It's really, erm, surprising."

Liadrin was silent. "I am a cloistered priestess—or was, recently. It isn't proper for me to speak of this kind of thing, or any ill of the King, or of innocents being taken advantage of. Do you imply that I am such a victim, Sorn?"

"Control… it must have been all about control." Sorn went back to work. "And you're too sweet to fall into something like that. Don't be flattered by how big a man Anasterian may seem. He is like any of us. Yes, you could have done so well for yourself. That will always be possible, Sister Liadrin."

But the young priestess focused on her vows, and said a little prayer then that Celestia and Anasterian's second honeymoon would be… not a failure. That was as much as she could manage, feeling the way she did about the great man.

_Today, in Dalaran…_

Blaize had known about Lady Liadrin's affair with King Anasterian. She told him about it while they got involved during his service at Tempest Keep, and had every intention of blackmailing the powerful Bloodknight Matriarch with it. But that was yet another attempt at gaining wealth that failed. He was not presently sure if Kael'thas realized the Matriarch of his Bloodknights had slept with his father. And so, Liadrin's maternal fixation on saving him began…

Celestia watched Blaize reading her diary, and then let her eyes wander up and down the naked length of him. Perfect, perfect man. She shut her eyes again and did not show any signs of rousing until he stashed the book back beneath her pillow.

"Thank you, my handsome husband, for indulging me this morning." She turned, and kissed his thigh.

He crossed his arms, angry at having to stop reading the book. "Tell me, how did it happen that you got yourself… enhanced?"

"I heard a rumor that it could be done, and convinced Anasterian that he would love me better for it. He was vain enough to think so too, and I was young and stupid enough to even conceive of it in the first place… we turned it into a second honeymoon. Oh, well. Blaize, when we got here, we found out it was something of a gimmick. The shopkeeper hadn't a clue what Anasterian was talking about, and the merchant placed the blame on some rival store. Really, the place was a very elegant lingerie store called Willy's Secret. It's since closed. But the shopkeeper had excellent skill with crafting braziers… Anasterian was angry about it though."

"So then?"

"He had already fantasized about it, dreamed about how it would be done. He took the man behind the counter and convinced him that, with the combined power of a Sunstrider and knowledgable brazier salesmen, breasts could in fact be enchanted."

Blaize snuggled nearer to her, perhaps without realizing it.

"Though I was going to be a guinea pig. What a fool I was, though the girls turned out well. Anasterian really was a dedicated pervert. He explained everything to me, and his comprehensive imaginings were starting to scare me. After all the drama of our journey, I told him that I would only go through with it if he enchanted himself too."

"His…?"

"If my bosom were going to be at his beck and call, then his… male part was going to be in my full control."

Blaize sat back up and rubbed his eyes. "You know, I think I was supposed to meet Dannox for brunch again today…"

"Well of course that selfish man didn't honor his promise, Blaize, calm down. Once he became fully in control of my appearance, he was satisfied with that. Anasterian was not going to meet me half way."

"…I'm sorry."

Celestia had started dressing herself. "No one ever said that to me before. Thank you. Thank you, Blaize for sensing how absolutely painful it was for him to abandon me in that way." She grieved.

He sat back on the edge of the bed. "Why did you think you ever needed something like that? And how did you hear about such a strange advertisement in the first place… a breast enchantment that brings even the Queen of Quel'thalas to Dalaran? I'd think some other wealthy person would have been disappointed and sued the place into the ground first, for false advertising. Especially with the long history of stringent market laws in place in this city. And that Anasterian had so much information already…"

Celestia became very quiet. Blaize realized why. He hugged her instantly. "Oh, I'm so, so sorry."

"That BASTARD! Anasterian must have planned the entire thing from the start—do you know he even talked about it openly to people in the palace? The whole world knew and believed that he cared about our marriage and wanted to make me feel better… He had me thinking it was my idea, ontop of everything else. It's been more than thirty years… thirty years, and even after his death, he's lied to me!"

Blaize decided that Dannox wouldn't mind paying for one less meal that afternoon, in any case. "Celestia, I think you are a beautiful woman."

She sniffled. "And at least Anasterian is dead, so he can't manipulate my girls anymore."

Blaize was very tempted to ask what she meant by that, but he could well imagine. "That… brilliant son of a bitch." Then he repeated, "Son-of-a-bitch," when Celestia glared at him. "And now I apologize for myself."

"That's alright, Blaize. You mean well. I adore you, you know. I don't care if you don't like hearing it."

Blaize found he could not let go of her, the embrace was so warm. Then, suddenly he released her and said he was going for a walk. He feared it might seem insensitive, but staying would make it seem as if he cared for her. And he didn't… that was impossible. The woman was so _evil_.

_Dearest Diary,_

_I love Nathaniel Blaize. I hope… I would like very much for him to read this also._

But then, Celestia ripped the page out. The golden book flipped, shuffled, sparkled, then closed and locked back again.

"I suppose this, too, is part of Kael'thas' punishment."


	6. Lady Novia

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Six: Lady Novia**

"I think Novia wants me to knock her up." Dannox mourned at brunch.

Blaize was more than annoyed. He recalled an old saying about all the people of the world putting their problems in a pile, seeing those issues other people regularly dealt with, and then suddenly wanting their own trifles back. And he also thought of now nicely Dannox's head might look mounted over his fireplace in a few months, when this horrifying friendship paid off. Hopefully, months would do, not years…

"I'm sorry, Dannox, do you need some paternal figure to explain the birds and the bees to you? Suddenly, your recruitment of me into this mad social circle makes sense."

Dannox started laughing into the sad palm he'd leaned his cheek against. "No, what worries me more is that I have no intention of marrying her. You see, when we went home after that spectacular brawl in the dress store, she made it very clear that she had no desire to marry me."

"And so you continue to put up with Novia because…?"

"Well, she's paying my way, and I suppose it's more that I haven't left yet. Yes, I'm insulted that I am only wanted for one thing, but at the least, I thought I was intellectual, charming or sympathetic… you know, a good lover in all those other ways. I have my pride, but I won't be put out on the street, either."

"You're waiting for something better to come along."

"I'm thinking a cock this time." Dannox's eyes wandered to the waiter as he passed. "We'll have the check please," and they stayed there until the Tauren man left. "No, but not quite that much of a rooster."

Blaize was at the moment recalling direct quotes Celestia transcribed into her diary. Some conversation Liadrin had with Sorn all those years ago, and then related to Celestia didn't make any sense. Why did the old bat wait almost thirty years to finally make his move on the Bloodknight Matriarch? Some men had no balls what-so-ever.

"…Hello? Nathaniel, you're going dreamy-eyed again. What should I do about Novia?"

"Do? Do her, and do her, and do her. What else?"

"I wish I could trade places with you. What I would give to have a truly loving partner who cares about my future."

"Celestia doesn't love me. It's the front of her dress you're pining after and stop pretending to be noble about it since the ball, I know you."

"Oh! Speaking of the Sunstriders, I overheard something the other day. Queen Saturna Whiteblade Blaize Sunstrider," here, Dannox got out of breath and had to take another, "has finally taken her first beau outside of marriage."

"Who?"

"It's Lorth'remar."

"I knew that was going to happen. That man divorced his wife the same moment Kael'thas finished paying off Saturna's separate estate in Eversong Woods. But I doubt Lorth'remar was really waiting for a separate bedroom for them. The youngest Queen of Quel'thalas has the hunger of a tigress, though she may look innocent."

"That ex-wife of yours sure does have a thing for Sunstriders."

"I told her so at the Black Temple, but Saturna wouldn't listen."

"Should she have stayed married to you, then?" Dannox leaned across the table and took the cigar from Blaize's breast pocket, lit it with the one he already had going. "Don't be so cheap and save these, General, I do have more if you want them."

Blaize rolled his eyes and smoked. "Saturna should have slept with Illidan first, let him get bored with her, and then Kael'thas, and then me."

"Ew. I didn't know you liked the cocks of strangers so much…"

"I'm saying that then, she could have really passed off this Belorim person as someone else's. I'd bet money all those rumors are true, and he is a love-child with Illidan. Nor would have Kael'thas and Illidan fought so violently over her if she'd slept with just one man at a time, nor would I have been forced to go up against Kael'thas like that, only to lose her to—"

"Kael'thas, and then Illidan, Kael'thas again, and now Lorth'remar."

"You have such a good memory, Dannox, thank you." Blaize snarled. "Look, if a sensible woman falls into your lap, brings no drama with her, and also power, money, then just take it, Dan. Give Novia her baby, and give yourself a break. You won't be able to juggle so many women forever."

"But that will leave me where? Some… baby's father of hers? And I'm not going to disappear in the night and leave my daughter or son with _Novia_."

"Maybe she'll house you and pay you… why would she want to raise it on her own, anyways, that's strange enough."

"Maybe I should suck it up and just leave, right now, before this gets any worse. General, do you have any friends—even back in Silvermoon—who could use a good handsome Night Elf like me? I'd promise to use them back."

"Only Saturna Whiteblade Blaize Sunstrider Sunstrider."

Dannox puffed smoke rings overhead. "Oh, right. You know, King Kael'thas _is_ going to kill his cousin."

"Come on, let's get away from this midday crowd and walk someplace."

"Where, though?"

"Someplace quiet where I can tell you what I read last night, about your Novia and Lady Vashj…"

_Ten years ago…_

Moon Priestess Novia closed the door, as requested, but she stood just next to it and listened.

"Malfurion Stormrage, our courssse is clear." Vashj the Naga hissed. "If you are to maintain power over Darnassus then running off to save Tyrande from the Black Temple is foolish!"

Novia mouthed the words to herself, for later.

"Of course, you would never want me to kill my own brother. You were sleeping with him until recently."

Vashj flexed her wrists in the shackles Jaina Proudmoore had left on, after fishing the Naga Queen out of the North Sea and delivering her to Darnassus for punishment. "At least, take these off. We've had very many good conversations regarding the kal'dorei state these last few weeks, and every reform I whissspered in your ear has gone over well with the people. At the leassst, acknowledge to them that it was all my doing!"

Malfurion had let his beard grow back in. What was the point in shaving anymore? "…No."

"Admit that you are vile, deep down. Vile like me. It is only when you accept it, that you can begin to do something with villainous intentionsss."

He continued to say No, to refute every tricky thing Vashj said, refuse every unequal favor she begged for, deny every bribe or budding blackmail scheme that licked off her pronged tongue into the chill air between them. The aqua Moonwell was the very shade of Tyrande's hair…

"Fine. I will tell you why I refuse to do things your way, Vashj. Perhaps you yourself will finally learn something from it. I brought you up out of the dungeons to be among the other priests in hopes that you would reform. I am aware that you are the last of the Moon Cult."

"Sadly, I share that title with your feckless Tyrande."

Malfurion began speaking over her. "They were fated for one another. I knew that, and everyone else could see it too… and your effort at dividing them had failed."

"Who? Illidan and Tyrande? Do you mean what Queen Azshara ordered me to do so long ago? You shouldn't take that personally, Malfurion. Azshara wanted a foolish errand done well, and the results were to be expected. One can't please such a vain-mad Queen."

Malfurion eyed her strangely. "Evenso… there were those among us, Vashj, who hoped your efforts to seduce Illidan with arcanus powder would work. Their happiness was tiresome, and in the way of real political goals. Neither Tyrande nor Illidan minded any Legion crisis or completed any quest for Cenarius while they were busy twining ankles in the bushes. And, besides… I had seen Tyrande first."

"But Illidan acted the fastest. I'm ssso sad you didn't like my song."

"Vashj, I saw to dividing them myself. Do you recall the demon dogs Azshara used to keep at her gates? Any heretic who displeased her, she'd throw them into the arena with one of those snarling, green slimy things. But, there were rumors that they weren't just for show. The weaker females were kept far beneath the castle, and weaned pups on secreted venom. I knew about it because I was planning to put an end to it."

"That would have required an upheaval of the entire kingdom. But, without the help of Tyrande and Illidan…"

"Exactly that. Cenarius blamed me for not keeping watch over my hedonist brother." Now, Malfurion rubbed an old scar across his cheek, the wound looked like a branch slapped across his face. "And I began to blame myself, also, for not _taking care of_ my hedonist brother, when the answer to our country's problem had always been so obvious. I took Illidan down beneath the castle, locked him inside one of the pens--on accident, I always said later. He was endangering the young, of course they bit him. Of course he remained in there long enough to be changed, before I remembered where the warden was, and got him freed. And then he had a fever, and seemed to recover, but Tyrande did know the difference. Illidan, Oscur'Shalak, her Prophet… he had lost his mind. No one would ever listen to him, or trust him again, with the venom flowing through his veins. Only I remember how he was injured, though, a long time ago, I confessed it to Tyrande. But she can't still be upset about it now?"

Vashj flew into a passionate exultation of how brilliant it all was. But Malfurion quieted her, and reassured that the guilt of doing such a thing to his own brother was consuming after many thousands of years, and it only resulted in Tyrande leaving him, for her first love in the end.

"BECAUSE YOU TOLD HER! WHY DID YOU TELL HER THE TRUTH?"

Malfurion flushed with embarrassment. "Well I… I felt bad, Vashj."

"You are a fool. Yesss, you are vile like me, but that is no reason to recant now, to lack balls and guile when it is mossst needed. Bring treacherousss Illidan to his kneesss. Break Tyrande's back! Don't go to her as if you're sssome criminal. Call her bluff! Let her get sssick of living in the filth of Shadowmoon Valley. Eventually, she will want to come back to her preciousss Alliance, the Humans and all that. But what they will sssee is a guilty woman, having run off to have an affair with a terrible man sssick with the Venom--"

"But Illidan _is_ sick with the Venom. He was infected with more than most… some of the Highborne were doing it too at the time, it was in fashion. I never expected my brother to get so lusty over vile doings, however, lust for Demon magic like that. Maybe I should be exposed and tried for how I broke him."

"No! Whatever sickness has been pumped into Illidan's veins, he took it upon himself to prevent you saving the world, once, now."

Malfurion corrected that it had been at least two or three times.

"WHATEVER! Be sssmart about this! Let her come back the hard way, allow me to help you win, Malfurion."

Novia stood in the doorway now. She felt a Moon Priestess should say something and object, or warn someone… but she had never been meant to hear so much.

"I will not." Malfurion insisted. "I want Tyrande back, and that's all. If you think breaking us apart is what can make you something of a Queen of Darnassus, it is far too late--"

"Come here, child." Vashj addressed Novia directly. "Look, Malfurion, what one of your Tyrande's precious Moon Priestesses thinks of the indiscretion. Speak up, what's your name!" Novia introduced herself with a shaky curtsey, "Now, be honest about your opinion of him, lessst you like your throat cut. Here, Malfurion, she will be our sample populus, the rabble down out there, and living all around this ridiculous monster tree called Teldrassil."

Novia was asked what she thought of Malfurion for destroying his brother's mind. "It was cruel… but, when others were also exposed to it--weren't many of the ancestors of Blood Elves, the very Highborne who chose to stay and follow Kael'thas in Silvermoon City and serve the Horde--among the elite who enjoyed casual Venom at the start of time?"

Vashj was surprised. "Why, yesss, my dear. This could be possible."

"It was my final service project as a novice priestess, researching the plight of the Blood Elves and finding some cure. There is plenty of evidence, also, to raise questions about the purity of the Sunstrider line. Dath'remar is recorded in various accounts as having taken Venom in public and at social events, alongside Queen Azshara, in fact. I would not be surprised if Kael'thas and Illidan were both exposed to the same strain, to have come together after so long. That is _precisely_ how it works. Over generations, venom-takers seek out demonic magics--the font of which being the Burning Legion. In lieu of that, they search for the next strongest source and in fact become attracted to those who nursed themselves from the same beast. In a way, Kael'thas and Illidan might be brothers, to have betrayed everyone in Outland only to cling to one another, Vashj being a case in point. They must crave each other's blood!"

Vashj smiled broadly. "And I only sssought to intimidate you and make this into a mind game to get Malfurion on my side. How fortunate, that the truth will suit, afterall. The truth, doesss appeal to you, Malfurion, does it not?"

Malfurion hardly got a chance to answer. Priestess Novia found courage in speaking about her research and went on and on about how the Venom affected so many minor events in history, and by itself, could account for a significant percentage of the Legion's total effort at conquest on Azeroth. Azshara was a heavy Venom user, Dath'remar had shown compassion for Illidan and been granted a vial of the Well of Eternity to later create the Sunwell Kil'jaeden would need later. Not everyone turned to the Legion out of heartfelt interest, some of the seeds were planted as insurance by the Legion long ago, and Kael'thas could have been the one to give them real success while at Tempest Keep--everyone knew he burnt the ship as an offering to the Legion, etcetera.

"Thisss girl is wonderful, Malfurion! Let's keep her."

"Were you, my Lady, going to kill me?"

"Perhapsss… before I realized your usefulness as a protégé. Malfurion? What say you? It seems that, with this information released to the general public, you will not be considered a fiend afterall. It's Illidan's own fault he is this way."

Malfurion raised a hand for silence. "But what will the people think of Tyrande? Priestess Novia, please speak freely and from the heart. Vashj is shackled and she will continue to be, if I decide this is not a just course of action."

Novia wringed her fingers. Vashj seethed. Then, they shared a special look. The first of many. "It will cause a rift, surely. Tyrande will be judged for having known the truth of Illidan's mental state for so long and done nothing. In a way, with her dual perspective as one of the final priestesses of the Moon Cult, and her exposure to those magics, in combination with this intimate knowledge of Illidan and the Venom… well, she could have prevented the fall of the very Black Temple in which she now lives."

Malfurion stood up, without realizing it. Vashj managed a scaley hand up to steady him. "Tyrande does have that kind of power. In fact, she did all along. Why did she not leave me sooner?"

Vashj offered up her shackled wrists, and Malfurion unlocked them when she said, "Because the bitch was content to play both brothersss. One, for his kingdom of Druids and loyal priests, the other for his delicious dream-spells. Any close servant of Illidan will tell you, those two have had fun twining ankles all these years, if in the confines of dream bushes in his head."

Vashj then embraced Novia. "Good, girl. Now that I am the new High Priestess of Darnassus, ruling by Malfurion's side, I want you to find someone to go send our old companions a message: Tyrande's true husband has bedded her greatest enemy. You will also say to Illidan that his most faithful servant, his wife in every sssinful misdeed, has pledged undying loyalty to his brother."

Novia assented and left the room, but she did not stray far from the door.

"Your choice of message to my brother was compelling."

"Oh, but he won't believe it without evidence."

Malfurion looked at her for a long time. "I don't think you'll enjoy playing games with my mind or libido, Lady Vashj. Let's not go down that road together."

"Are you afraid to accept my advancesss becaussse the last game you played with an enemy caused him to lose his mind and crave the evil of the Burning Legion for thousands of years, while you enjoyed seducing his woman? But your hunger for revenge or a beautiful body wasss never really sated, was it?"

"Vashj, let's be honest. You are a far different woman now than you were at the start of time."

"Do you mean DIFFERENT-LOOKING?!"

Malfurion tried not to let himself laugh, and he hid that poorly. And so, what left her lips next started more like a threat, "Go to sleep firssst, Malfurion. I will come to you in the night, and I we can speak further about thisss in your dreamsss."

"Ha! Only, in my dreams? Vashj, forgive me, but I might have my own needs, had you considered that? This isn't going to work."

She insisted with heat, "Our romance will begin in your dreams. That is my ssstrength, and how I wish you to firssst know me."

"I am a master dreamer, already. Ysera would vouch for that. Please, Vashj, don't sour our alliance. You may like me because I resemble my brother, but your old lover is not my moral match."

"Morality? What hasss that got to do with anything? You have untapped potential, Malfurion. You are in desssperate need of corrupting and countless else that only I can provide for you. Then, you will be made perfect! Tell me that you don't crave taking everything from Tyrande, blasssting her idea of a right society run by priestesses into stark abyss!"

He could not.

"Then, in every way that matters, our political and personal romance inevitable. We should have a great deal of fun together." Vashj kissed Malfurion. To Novia, it seemed that he finally got a sense of what Vashj was capable of, in that stolen touch. He stood alone, gripping the railing beyond the Moonwell in the Temple of Elune for a long time afterward.

"Tyrande… oh, she could never do such things. I see now what our greatest problem was, you holding out for _him. _You treacherous prude!"

_At present, and a day earlier…_

Novia lay out a hand of Darkmoon Faire cards and hugged across the table to gather together all her winnings. Several other elven ladies sucked pearly teeth and giggled over their brandy. Celestia had been welcomed back into the company of the United Elven Social Club, and she seemed to think such a mild loss was worth it.

"I especially loved your story about Vashj and Malfurion coming together, Lady Novia." Celestia offered up her rose-colored cards. "I can't wait to put something so deliciously scandalous into my diary. Imagine Tyrande a true prude, and Vashj the perfect temptress to the Archdruid's urges? Mm, such a scene. Though, are you sure it isn't just a whimsy of yours with handsome Dannox, who is also a druid? I'd hate to find myself among the more naïve of our group."

The other ladies laughed and agreed that they all adored the story, and it would get into their diaries, or their husbands' ears, or the neighbors' as soon as a moment arrived.

"It's all true. How else do you think I got my title? And the rest is history. Vashj and Tyrande fought over who was the true High Priestess of Darnassus, created a rift among the Night Elves, exactly as I predicted. But, that only made Vashj love me more." Novia began to deal for them all again. An Ace of Furies slipped down her sleeve but her doting friends did not mind. "As for how it affected Malfurion Stormrage, we all know he and Vashj lived happily ever after. After she returned from the Maelstrom with Illidan's lost son and eventually mended fences. You may think Vashj heartless, but she does have a sense of family values, and she missed her old friend Illidan after a time. Oh, and by then The Curse was lifted, and Naga looked just as good as you or I, of course."

"And the bit about Kael'thas and Illidan being… Venom brothers? Am I to understand you wish this to become common knowledge?"

Novia blanched. "Well, I… everyone in the club is sworn to an oath of privacy, on sensitive matters. Nor should any of us put on airs and presume to know as much as the Lady of Coilfang Reservoir holds close to her breast. If you spill it, she'll come right after you."

Novia flinched enough to leave the impression that she herself would be in peril, though. But that was just as good as their own hides being flayed. For many of them, there was no connection to home or Elven traditions, or at least not a good one for Night Elves with Darnassus in jeapordy, nor for Highborne and Blood Elves if they disagreed with Kael'thas. No one would dare rock the boat when Novia held their survival in her powdered palms.

That hand of cards ended quickly, but Novia glanced sharply upward, when the ladies began to rise from the table. "The men--including many of your husbands voted before Dannox earlier this evening. Because we are between our official monthly meetings, I promised to take the ladies' opinions before the day was out. Now, ladies of the United Elven Social Club, we've been discussing this particular issue forever, and I trust there won't be any more obtrusive commentary or base objections. The Solar Festival went well, did it not? We can expect that, by setting yet another trend, the people of Dalaran will be behind us. And, what this important city thinks will set the tone for the rest of the world, and so forth… Alright, let's have it! All those for admitting Naga into the social club, say Aye."

There was concern and hesitation. Celestia felt it acutely and went "Nay!"

"Oh gods, it seems Blaize's nag is the one with the problem now. Or, was the nag just practicing going 'Neeeigh?' Really, Celestia, after the stunt you pulled with my Dannox in the closet, you are lucky that I only just let you back in here."

"Excuse me, madam, but you clearly intend to ambush us all, after such a happy evening. We've been losing to you all night, and you expect us to feel inclined to surrender our best sense as well. But whatever you may believe about my true intentions, that common smarts is what drives us, protects us. It is what gathered us all here, believing, with fiercest hope, in what Sylvanas and Vereesa Windrunner put into place when they lay down their weapons after Kael'thas' victory over Arthas, came home from Icecrown and chartered this very United Elven Social Club."

"Celestia, _please_. We can all read that for ourselves from the banner over yonder, will you stop?"

"I cannot." She leaned knuckles on the table, and consequently, even in the company of fellow women, flaunted what she was best known and feared for. And so Celestia took doubled, angry breaths that her friends were compelled to watch, "The Alliance and Horde may be at peace, and our people still left in factions against one another with a long way to go ahaed… But all true Elves can agree on one thing: History has only taught us that Naga are evil creatures. I don't care about The Curse. Whether they look like Highborne right now or not, they are still _not _Highborne. Be they once minions of Azshara or Lady Vashj, and so allied with Kael'thas, still I say Nay! For, they are not Blood Elves either. And they are certainly not representative of your people, Novia, for the Night Elves would never embrace such vicious practices, using magic which rivals even the Burning Legion. They conjure the Maelstrom and keep it in place. They sewed a collar round my step-son's neck for Illidan Stormrage several years ago too. This is evil power."

Novia sneered. "But the Legion is now all but dissolved."

"So then, Naga vileness has no match today! It has no equal, it is the worst danger out in this world at present, and it is not checked in the least. And why not? Because pretty faces are breathing it over pearly teeth, waggling soft, never-worked fingers over scrying orbs and telling our futures with it, twisting our dreams… No, Novia. Look at our people. Every single one of us hails from a kingdom that has paid, and dearly, for its idleness in the wake of self-imposed misery, or managed to overcome abuse of its own proud legacy. The Naga have not been tested. In fact, they have not even self-reflected, nor considered any world conflict to be of any use joining the fight against. Azshara could still be in league with the Legion for all we know--"

"Now you are just throwing out accusations."

"We all feel it. None of us want to be responsible for starting some movement for the world to embrace a sinister army of tricksters and brutes. Peace was only just won ten years ago, and thank the Sun for Thrall and his foresight. I am not denying them entry, ever, but I do want to see some proof of righteous purpose, beyond them wanting to be easier on the eyes. And I have met a great deal of ugly downtrodden people in my life, for that matter, who have been kinder than Vashj, so that can tell you what measure of morality beauty ever is."

Novia brooded for a good while. The ladies watched, partly in fear, smiles curling the edge of painted mouths, brightening powdered cheeks… "Speaking of our beloved charter, you and your husband really shouldn't even be included in this group, banished Queen Celestia. Isn't there some code or other, barring criminals of our collective kingdoms? And that suits, too, I suppose in this case. Naga are all criminals, historically and according to your estimation of them. If there isn't any room for a Naga here--and I am speaking of reformed Naga with their curse lifted, not green ones," she bargained a little for those still on the fence, "…then there can't be any room for Queen Celestia, or General Blaize Sunstrider, either."

Celestia stood upright again and tossed a shawl over her shoulders. She hoped that she did not look as old and beaten now, as she felt. Right was right, and evil was evil, no matter how handsome he might be. A lifetime of heartbreak had taught her as much. But without the Social Club, there was no enduring Dalaran, or whatever was left of her life. Any scant hope of freedom, lost.

"I suppose, when you word it so well, Novia. How can I… how could anyone oppose. Aye."

Women around the room echoed it. Novia reached out and snatched the candelabra up in her fist, slammed the flat base down on the table. "The motion is passed. Good night, Ladies."

Celestia did not fully believe every inch of Novia's spun yarn regarding Vashj and Malfurion, or Kael'thas and Illidan. But she did decide to record every word. If the other women in their group would be too afraid to act upon such sensitive information, then let them. But she knew all too well the power of blackmail. One day… For now though, it was mostly a good exercise in journaling because she'd performed admirably patriotic, and at least Blaize might come to like that about her too.

For what shattering upbraiding she'd received tonight, Celestia hoped he would read it and bring it up later, in his sly way. There was a time when Queens were never called outside of their titles whether they'd outlived their husbands or no, and that same respect was given in every other aspect throughout their lives. Devoting her best years to Silvermoon was most definitely a community service, a sacrifice. Oh, General Nathaniel Blaize! Sweet, sweet conspirator, sometimes it felt like they two were the only witnesses to the foolishness of this slavering, self righteous newest generation, this runaway reunited Azeroth.

Author's Note:

There is a forum for this story. Every chapter is summarized, as a freebie, because this story is an experiment and written in an intentionally disjointed way. Goodness, though, is it fun to write!


	7. Hints from FelLouise

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Seven: Hints from Fel-Louise**

Blaize was very innocently reading the Dalaran Times in a cafe one morning (this was made possible without Dannox, for Blaize had only purchased a small coffee), perusing the Style section, in fact, for a change from worrying over stocks or homes he would have invested in, when a new horrifying subject tempted him.

_Dear Fel-Louise,_

_I doubt you'll have them run this, when it's my second time writing, but really, I can't accept your advice last week without a major complaint: I don't see how pretending to be my husband's first wife and getting my bosom enchanted is going to rekindle the romance in our marriage? Was that some sort of sick joke, when it was the cause of King Anasterian's downfall in Silvermoon, everyone knows that. Again, I sincerely hope you are joking. It's hard enough to get the courage to write in, and then to hope I can convey my problems well enough anonymously, and now to write you again for clarification? Please, do let the second time be the charm!_

_Dear Catlady,_

_Excuse me, Madam! I was being as serious as death. Do you think I suggest these things on a whim, without any real consideration…_

The column was right near the tail-end of an article he'd been reading, a guide to improving one's spunk in the bedroom that Blaize couldn't believe had been allowed to run in the paper. But this was worse. This was a disaster, instant-misery for him. For the tone of voice, the spirit-breaking diatribe, the intimate knowledge of Silvermoon's court and those references only so many Blood Elves or Highborne would get… it was his wife Celestia writing the damned thing!

…_And in case you haven't grasped Fel-Louise's big hint: go on, do whatever you want and let the marriage be destroyed, you might as well at this point. If the man doesn't already love you for who you are, and no other kind effort nor romantic counsel has worked, then forget it! A woman can only go so far, and more often than not, she finds that she's already gone into extremely foreign territory and gained possession of new charms mismatched to her age and demeanor; these will make her uncomfortable __for the rest of her life__. As Lady Vashj once said to Malfurion, regarding marriage to Tyrande (ha! Or, was it her thousands-of-years-old dalliance with Illidan?), 'You cannot complete a foolish errand well!' _

Blaize stopped reading _Triangle: A guide to discovering new pleasurable angles and achieving heightened degrees of better sex by Rachel Darkweaver_, and flipped closed the newspaper. He'd only begun reading that story anyways, because the 'Steve' mentioned constantly in that story sounded so much like his friend Dannox. But this Fel-Louise nonsense had to be confronted head-on and right away!

"CELESTIAAAAAA!" Blaize ran home and when he got there, slammed the door of their apartment. Immediately after, tinny Gnome voices came through the thin walls, shushing him. "Oh, shut up, yourselves! CELESTIAAAA!"

"Yes, my sweetest, dearest, darling, handsome husband?" she sang from the next room. Blaize hated it, and had a theory that she was so flattering and submissive to him on purpose at the start of abrasive conversations, in order to entice and then dominate his sense of gentility towards a well-bred woman.

When he entered the room, Celestia sat on the bed. All the packed shelves and stacked boxes lining the walls of the master bed room (and it was the only bedroom) were disheveled or opened. Papers lay everywhere.

"Before I start, what in the world are you doing to our home? Don't you think you already have enough junk around here?"

"Oh, Blaize…" she winked coyly at him. "What's got you so angry, dear, I'm afraid that I like it. And believe it or not, I'm in the middle of cleaning." She went back to making notes in her golden diary, licking a thumb, and then flipping through a stack of pages. Blaize noticed then that every document pulled out of its place was thrice-creased. These were letters. "Do you need something, you precious, rump-dimpled, over-serious man?"

Blaize itched at his temple. "I… So, you truly are in a good mood?"

"I always am, when I'm about to make more money, or ascend rank like a fiend! I see that you've got a copy of the Dalaran Times in your hand, is that today's? Please don't mind the comment about Lady Vashj. I mean," because she was not supposed to be aware of his reading her diary and knowing about the terse exchange between herself and Novia, or the rest of that Malfurion-Vashj story. "I suppose what I mean is that I heard it from a source, and she'll only risk revealing herself by trying to locate me."

"I don't understand… so then, you are writing a gossip column, spreading our personal business, and the Dalaran Times is paying you for it?"

"There is also talk of the Shat Post picking up Fel-Louise, which is nice because their five-part series on the triangle affair has ended by now. Rumor has it that the Crazy Cat Lady is now in Dalaran, though why authorities have not yet caught up is most curious."

Blaize knew he would regret asking what the triangle thing was. His wife was too smart.

"Oh My!" Celestia dropped everything and blew kisses up at him when he chanced it anyway. "So then, you do love me, or at least a fraction of the time we spend together. I am glad to see you are interested in improving your performance in this bed, my dear."

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny. It was more the salacious element I've been _missing out on _in that bed, to clarify, that is why my eyes were helplessly drawn to Miss Rachel Darkweaver's…" Blaize had to stop. Why was that last name so painfully familiar?

"Or, you could have said that the boy in you wanted to know, desperately, how a double-murder, an inside job revealing secret agents of the Burning Legion happened, and not one real arrest got pulled off. I wonder if exoneration is on the table, that's not impossible. These days, if Illidan and Kael'thas can do it, than why not long-time servants of the Burning Legion?" Celestia waggled a letter at him, to better explain her insight. "Loyal fans don't just write me, asking for advice, handsome, sometimes they provide the fire-fodder too. Thank you Krris B. from the north-western quadrant of Aldor Rise!" she kissed the page, squealed girlish, and handed it over.

After reading the details of the spectacular blunder of the Shatthrath City police department--this Draenei man was a clerk in their office--for having plenty of evidence but no viable suspects on hand, Blaize had to shut his eyes. "So, this is how you've been doing it?"

Celestia asked, pencil in her teeth as she re-sorted letters, "Doing what, dear?"

Gathering dark secrets from the very reaches of Azeroth and beyond to record in her diary. Filling his brain with what he feared, at times, was sheer nonsense. Elaborating forever on minute details of past events which just did not match up with his own memories, or with anytihng Dannox could recall, when Blaize asked. And how was this all happening? Anyone who wasn't anything but who desperately wanted to be more--and that was a lot of people in this life--came up with dirt on a celebrity and sent it to his wife.

"I got started back in Silvermoon, when Anasterian left me with nothing else better to do except hear about him having all kinds of affairs. I thought the social slap on the wrists might make him think twice, but it did not help very much. The people, though, they loved knowing about castle gossip. And, to preserve my true identity, I commented on other royal families as well. A paid footman and an anonymous security box at the bank help to get the letters coming in safely, and I never ever take personal requests. I pick what is fit to print, and anyone who doesn't get published is just good news to me, at least!

"Who… are you?"

"A well-bred woman applied at a hobby. I suppose I could have played piano instead, or knitted you a sweater, but I've tried, and I don't think I'm that sort of woman."

"This is not a hobby, Celestia. This is you controlling the flow of secret information throughout two worlds. For thirty years, did you say? Is that how old this Fel-Louise column is?"

"I can't have written an update every week of my life, Blaize, of course not. And sometimes the newspapers felt Fel-Louise, who only hints advice--most often bad--then spends the larger part of her reader-responses talking about world leaders… it's controversial, so sometimes they drop it altogether. But it also sells."

He feigned disappointment only a little while longer. "How much are we making?"

"Peanuts. But it keeps me happy."

Blaize began asserting again that it was a waste of time, and too risky, if Kael'thas or his watchers ever found out.

"Someone, somewhere is going to give me valuable information one of these days, Blaize. I only just got started up again with the Dalran Post after saving enough to hire out a trustworthy delivery person these last ten years--my, the wait was killing me! I also sense you doubt me because you're still wondering where our high-rent loft over the Legerdermain Lounge money went."

But Blaize was already hands-and-knees on the floor, going through the pages. "Where's the dirt on Kael'thas? Did you get any new mail about that?!"

"No, no, no Nathaniel dear. It's not alphabetical, but visual--a pile system. I need to group things in places that carry an association. My step-son's stack is in the bathroom, directly beneath the toilet bowl."

Celestia considered alerting her husband that there were also a few letters pegging his best friend as the 'Steve' character mentioned overmuch in that Triangle article, but… well, why cause trouble when Blaize looked so very happy? She'd save that for a rainy day when they were stuck inside the house together. Such a blow would end one of his finer cloistered arguments.

Kneeling before her now and in happy shock, "Gods, have I told you recently, what a beautiful woman you are?" she allowed herself to be kissed, and then Blaize awkwardly hopped from one bare space in the carpet to another, to trip, catch the swinging bathroom door by its knob and descend carefully into the great big mess Kael'thas had left.

_Later that same day, in Silvermoon…_

Lorth'remar Sunstrider sneaked a hand around Saturna's waist as they watched the sunset. But then, there was a fuss beyond the field, down in the stables, and he got up to see who it was.

"Oh, it's not Kael'thas." Saturna sighed, and left him for the house. Her long skirt rustled over dewey grass going gold this autumn.

"But suppose it was," the rapier Lorth'remar now carried was adjusted. He glanced everywhere. "I am thinking of your protection of course."

Saturna reminded him then, that she required protection in the bedroom of all places these days, and that is where the evening ended.

_Two years ago, from the present…_

Kael'thas watched Saturna closely from where he stood with Tempestraven across the ballroom.

"I'll be back—"

Tempest said, "Look, you two aren't married anymore. Give it a rest, she can talk to whomever she wants. Just feel grateful that it can't ever be Blaize."

Lorth'remar really had Saturna giggling.

"She used to only giggle like that for me."

Daphne and Pyorin watched Sunthraze flush at the top of his head. He tugged his wife closer. _Don't get involved this time…_

Kael'thas looked over his Bloodknights. How he'd ever managed to win them in the unofficial separation between himself and Saturna was a miracle he did not question. Trustworthy friends were indispensable at court. He supposed it was because they sensed Saturna was not acting like herself. And that, he realized with a pang of regret, had become her most unattractive quality. The Bloodknights' loyalty must have also renewed when they observed Kael'thas generously give Saturna everything she wanted: her own estate, in order to live free of his further involvement in her life, and then he granted her wish for their son Chao'thas to be sent away to Dalaran for school. Finally, the Queen was able to keep her title and a yearly allowance ten times the size of Celestia's. Kael'thas had been trying to buy peace and quiet from his step-mother, and it turned out to inspire his own wife to demand freedom. The arrangement was secret of course. To the kingdom, there was no ironic divorce being carried out to save the government where, before, King Anasterian felt pressured to keep Celestia to himself and so expressed his happiness in all the other beds of the Convocation. Today, Silvermoon was being run as smoothly as possible; Kael'thas suffered in silence.

The Knights of the Blood Nexus were the King's sworn protectors. When they eventually learned of the quiet arrangement, Kael'thas must have seemed to them nobler than ever. For once, Saturna was a villain, getting away with everything. Their perception suited Kael'thas just fine over the last eight years. Illidan had been right, ever since Thrall's trial in Darnassus. Pity was a powerful magic.

When Kael'thas turned back to his old friends in the ballroom, only Tempest was left.

"Daphne and Pyorin said they had to go check on their son, and take an early night. I really don't blame them, either, Kael'thas. You're cruisin for a bruisin. Sunthraze left because they just refreshed the springpaw appetizers."

All such good excuses, which could not hurt his feelings in the least. Kael'thas supposed now and finally, all their fealty and recent signs of competence were most likely due to Magnus' latest round of brain-washing. "Can a happily married woman give you a bit of advice?" Tempest started a cigarette.

"Undermine married at some shotty hole-in the wall Goblin casino is not real-married. Besides, you did it for the money and now that Lady Vashj is alive, and also because Illidan's life insurance policy is forfeit, Sunthraze has to sell off his assets to the Goblins. He's a broke jokester again."

"I still love him anyway, the short little shrimp-man." She said. Kael'thas stole the cigarette from her one last time. "Look, K-ster, stay cool about this. You can't go after her if she really doesn't want to. Accept that. In the meantime, why don't you just go sheet-diving with Dr. Ruthie?"

"Saturna got Ruthie in the settlement."

"She even got your succubus?! Those must have been some evil barristers, holy--!"

Kael'thas really glared at Lorth'remar now, across the room. "Yes, her father Lord Byron brought a team of his sharks. But Lorth'remar and Saturna are just talking, right, Tempest? I'm possibly imagining things."

"Would Fennore ever let you borrow Mavia then? Because, you can forget getting any woman to do anything once somebody gets a look at that Ruthie. Not even a man is going to come near you once they see what Saturna and Ruthie can get up to together… how did you ever let her get away with it? What did you fucking do to Saturna to make her so mad, Kael'thas?"

"I thought you all assumed that I took the higher road? And I'm sincerely sorry for the flirting just now. I suspect it's on account of me getting dangerously tipsy," and Kael'thas stopped a server and took three more shots in delicate glasses. Then he almost shouted, "Happy Birthdaaaaay!" but Tempest snatched his arms back down.

Tempest was wide-eyed. "Do I have to drop you off with Sorn?"

"No. And I'm insulted by that."

"Good, because I'm pretty sure _you_ don't need any more protecting. I'm going to go find my hubby…"

Lorth'remar approached from across the crowded gallery, but as he got closer, it appeared he didn't know Kael'thas was standing there. The poor man tried to take Saturna and veer off in a new direction.

"Haha, cousin! No, no, come here. I want to talk to you… And Saturna, my wife."

She curtsied as if she did not know Kael'thas.

"I hear you and _your_ wife may be ending things? Poor Paulina, she must be heartbroken. Though, after so many of your affairs going public, she can't really be surprised."

Lorth'remar smiled wider. The cleft in his chin balanced the lighter features of his version of Sunstrider. Kael'thas' face was all strength and guile, handsome twisted smile when he wanted something.

"Saturna, you look lovely tonight, if I haven't told you already."

Another cold curtsey. Kael'thas used a thumb to crack each of his knuckles.

"Kael'thas, it is sad news, indeed. But, I seem to have made a friend who understands how much separation can hurt. Your wife is precious."

"Yes, I am." But this was directed up at Lorth'remar. He bestowed a loving look.

The three of them stood together awkwardly. Kael'thas finished cracking his last knuckle. "Starshine? I'd like to take you for a walk."

Saturna stared at Kael'thas' arm, that he extended to her. Then, she took it cautiously. Lorth'remar was left behind, and Kael'thas escorted her from the palace to some whispers from the wise, charmed adulation from the naïve, and also a light spring symphony to celebrate the Queen's birthday.

It was a cold night, and the garden was mostly naked.

"If I told you that I got you a present, would you stay the night?"

Saturna continued to hold him and walk in silence. Kael'thas smelled her hair.

"Stop it."

"I can't ever stop loving you. You do realize that I gave you everything you wanted because, eventually, I know that you are going to forgive me and come back to me."

"Yes, it is very easy to forgive someone for something that one can't remember they did to you. Why do I have a feeling that you even fixed it that way?!"

Kael'thas was able, this time, to give her a purely innocent look.

"…But yet you did do something to me. Something terrible. Lady Vashj agrees, and Illidan agrees. They won't tell me what it is—"

"Because they don't remember, either, Saturna. Which, most likely means there is nothing else going on."

"All I know is that I am afraid of Illidan and Vashj, desperately afraid since your trial. Beyond what I saw you three doing, Warchief Thrall forgave the crimes of the Outland Triumvirate but he should not have."

Kael'thas heated, "Are you saying that you would rather see me in prison, and this country again in ruins?"

"…and then this young man comes along and claims that I am his mother. I don't even remember carrying him! Why would I have a baby and then give him up, to Tyrande or Illidan, of all people, Illidan? We never got along! Kael'thas, it makes no sense. But other people are starting to believe it too, and why not the Queen herself? There _are_ a few months of my life that not even you can account for, while we were at the Black Temple."

"Saturna, I told you this before. Illidan and I fought over you, but then I got us out of there and to Tempest Keep with your friends. You were distressed… you thought you'd lost Chao'thas. No one expects you to remember anything clearly from that time. Let's just feel grateful that you didn't, and now he's a healthy, successful young man."

Saturna cried into his arm. "Oh, how I hate you. I just hate you, I can tell that you're lying to me again. Chao'thas isn't successful for one, he's flunking out of University. And that can't be what happened at the Black Temple!"

"It is the truth… except about Chao'thas. That's just the wishful thinking of a father. Believe the rest."

"And the next thing I clearly remember after the Black Temple is Icecrown."

"Saturna, you promised me that you would never speak of it. Stop it right now, you're upsetting yourself."

"I am not upsetting myself, these things I cannot remember are upsetting me, and the way you keep talking to me, the way you keep expecting me to pretend like everything is normal when it's not. Whether we're getting along or not, you are my husband, you are supposed to protect me. Why aren't you helping me to figure it all out? Your selfishness, Kael'thas, that is my only real evidence! You consistently refuse to follow the most logical path, and that is to figure out the truth, help me find some comfort. Why should you be afraid of it? But, somehow, without knowing why, you desperately are afraid of the truth, in the same way that I am completely freaked out by Illidan! And, apparently, there is a second son I don't remember, something else you or Illidan did to me… Yes, I have thought it over these last few years. But the only conclusion I've come to is that I can't trust you anymore."

"Can't you trust that, in the end, I loved you enough to give you a choice whether or not to be married to me? Did you want me to question your feelings? No, I trusted you and gave you space. But that was hard Saturna, you are still my whole world, my light, but I was willing to give that up."

"And you had. I did. I think I remember… we were arguing just like this, in Icecrown, and Arthas laughing before he disappeared… I made a wish to never have loved you!"

Kael'thas held Saturna close and spoke over her. "Don't you know that it's your innocence I can't live without? Yes, I have been a bad man, but you always gave me hope."

"Stop it, I already told you! Weren't you listening to me? You just enjoy playing with me, trying to see how far you could corrupt me." She pushed away.

"Yes, that too. I will admit, that seducing you into evil, my addiction to twisted things was part of the thrill. And maybe our relationship wasn't perfect, but it wasn't bad either. I've done some thinking, and I realize now that I did all of those things because I was hurting and I didn't know how to stop. So I pushed and I pushed… maybe if you went over the edge too, you could finally find me. You would see me how I was, and like it, and then I wouldn't have to change."

"Kaelthas, that's sick."

"But I am all better now. Saturna, I promise you. Ever since we… ever since you remembered the trial in Darnassus ten years ago, my eyes have been opened. I am so grateful that, at the least, you wanted to stay married to me."

"That was for the good of the kingdom."

"And your greed. Admit that you want to remain Queen."

"I can watch you and make sure that you don't hurt anyone else again. I do have power too in this government, you know."

She sat down on a white stone bench and hugged her bare arms. "And… maybe I do like being Queen, a tiny bit."

"There's still a little fangirl in you somewhere." Kael'thas didn't know why he said that. "Saturna, it's this simple. You want to be Queen and you don't want to be at odds with me. Well then, here I am. I can still give you everything you want, everything you've ever desired."

"Like Illidan's head on a silver platter."

Kael'thas waited for her to apologize. Thrall himself had announced to the world that enslaving Illidan Stormrage had been a noble sacrifice. Kael'thas was the only warlock powerful enough to do it, and he had sacrificed his own freedom, possibly his sanity if Illidan couldn't really be helped, his country, and countless other personal treasures. Kael'thas had gained immense power as well, but at a terrible price. But Thrall believed that, with the support of a united Azeroth, Kael'thas could bear the burden with pride, and pursue the effort with a whole and engaged heart unburdened by fear of judgment or reprisal. Saturna, however, saw it as uniting forever with the Demon Lord who'd caused her significant pain… a pain that she did not remember the cause of. Moreover, Kael'thas committed himself to the Demon Lord without asking his wife first.

"Being bonded to Illidan has changed you, Kael'thas."

He knelt before her. "Please, this is your birthday. Let me be your handsome prince again for just one night? I love you through life and through death. You know me, every inch of me. I know that you sacrificed so much when I refused to listen while at Tempest Keep. Nor did you want Chao'thas raised on that ship. But I brought our family home." Kael'thas kissed her and rubbed her arms, fawned over the many goosebumps. "Is what I did in Darnassus so bad? Don't you have any temptation for your husband at all… let me make love to you again."

Saturna cried, and said that she couldn't. He'd hurt her far too much, and without all the answers, she couldn't begin to make sense of her feelings. Kael'thas tugged on her fingers and pulled Saturna back to him. "Well then… at least take your present." A pause. Saturna knew what he was about to do to her, but she could not find the strength to stop it, not this time. And when, after everything, he looked so very good in moonlight and shadow.

His kiss was delicate at first. He played with her lips, until she gave up prideful resistance. With that, he took her propriety, tasted still more, and murdered her shame. He had her in a way that might have fooled Saturna into thinking that he could never stand to have any other woman… though she knew they were both free to have affairs. And Kael'thas had some of his own before she finally gained the courage to chat up Lorth'remar tonight. But even then, there was love between she and Kael'thas. It was warm, and heady, and wishful. It hoped and dreamed of some other time that could not be now, it was too happy and careless to be right now, when so much was wrong. But later, later, he promised. When she was ready to forgive him, they would be together. Forever, this time. And laced over that was the rich taste of his body: his mouth, and now he pressed into her so that she could not mistake what else she had once tasted and loved.

An island floating over Nagrand, flying naked on a phoenix, cherries on strings, as silly as she was, hanging all over the Black Temple.

When Kael'thas was done, and it took Saturna some moments to realize that the dreamy kiss had ended, she grabbed his sleeve, afright.

"Oh my goodness!"

He started laughing.

"How in the Sun's name did you ever manage to do that?"

"Once upon a time, you told me that you never wanted to forget what it tasted like, or felt like in your mouth. Something about cherries… well, now you have it."

A kiss could be enchanted? Well, why not? If Celestia was anything to go on…

Saturna slapped his arm. "I can't go around like this. I can't go around… behaving, holding meetings and whatnot with the taste and feel of your cock inside my mouth?!" but she'd started smiling.

"Love me, or love a piece of me… I just feel lucky that you still care for me. I was a little nervous. It wasn't going to work if there wasn't something already in your heart to work with."

She walked away from him, shoes clacking on the stone walk. But then Saturna giggled. She bubbled with excitement. She raced back to Kael'thas, hopped on him and squealed that she loved it.

"And I love you. Happy Birthday, Saturna."

"Oh, you are such a dirty, awful man… you were a spectacular love." She cried happily. "I mean, are. I mean… well, I suppose that sometimes, we might—"

He winked. Saturna pressed fingers to her lips again, embarrassed. "Will it ever wear off?"

"Never ever. Want it, and it will be there."

She must have done something near to panic. Her curtsey was shaky, and she got away from the garden as fast as possible. Kael'thas felt the collar around his neck, and sat down to look at the stars. It made him sad to think there might come a day when his estranged wife did not think it was a gift.

_Back to the present…_

And so, two years later, Saturna found that she could not even open her mouth to encourage Lorth'remar to go as far as she needed this night, without recalling Kael'thas, her last lover.

"Is something the matter?" They sipped wine in the drawing room. Lorth'remar kept glancing at the stairs, which could be seen through the open doorway, but they were taking forever to go to bed. But why? The house was romantic and quiet. All but essential servants were dismissed for the night.

"Um… It's just that I find it very hard--" Saturna cursed herself. "It's not easy to get off. Off… on the right foot. My tongue's tied this evening, Lorthie. It's swirling around and around the point but not…" Saturna shut her eyes. _Kael'thas. I am going to kill you._

"Let's not speak at all then. I admit that I lost my confidence earlier, but we're shut up nice and locked down tight in here, aren't we?" he teased the window curtain behind him aside and peered out into the dark beyond the house. "Come upstairs with me, I will do the rest."

How, when the whole thing was possibly done in her mouth already? _Aaaaarggghhh!_

"What did you just say, Saturna?"

"Huh? I said something?"

It was a trick. Lorth'remar kissed her on the lips and though she tried valiantly to prevent it, the handsome Sunstrider kept what gain he'd won by initiating mid-sentence, tilted her head back, forced her lower in the chair until she squeaked a final hesitation, and surrendered to having another tongue--a man's--join her little party. _Aaaaaaah!_

Saturna would have been absolutely disgusted with herself, if there had never been any natural inspiration for her becoming a fangirl once a lifetime ago. Poor Lorth'remar, he had no idea how close he was coming to incest.

He pulled back. "You know, I can't put my finger on it…"

She whimpered, "Oh gods, please, don't. No more."

"…but this is getting kinda weird--"

A knock on the front door. Saturna shouted over her butler that she'd get it herself. She raced down the corridor, ahead of the insistent man--he had some pride about him, considering that he'd been selected as 'essential staff' for that evening, and didn't want the Queen answering the door to the great Sunthraze Estate for herself.

Saturna snatched it open, then screamed. A man with curling Demon horns slapped his palms flat on either side of the door frame and leaned across the threshold, taking hungry breaths in the shadows.

"Forgot to tell you… the kiss works both ways!" Kael'thas forced his way in, arrived in the drawing room, and must have punched Lorth'remar, because when Saturna and her butler finally reached the King, his cousin lay sprawled out cold on the floor.

"SATURNA?! Really? That was disgusting!"

"Me?! What about you? You are foul, you have some serious _issues _to set it up like that! And what happened to you, did you grow horns all of a sudden?"

"I'm always like this; you're just seeing me when I'm completely undone and can't fix it. Enslaving Illidan had its side-effects." _Last time I take magical advice from you, Illidan…_

Saturna could hear otherworldly laughter fill up the room. It erased her sudden curious thought, about Kael'thas with horns looked so similar to the Stormrage boy. "Was that from you stupid Soul Link, with Illidan?"

"…No." Why not? It was a stupid question to have asked, anyways.

The butler said dryly, "Shall I start the hearth-fire in the master bedroom upstairs for yourself and the King, Madam?"

"Ew, no."

"Well, yeah, I guess we already did get started--I mean, no!"

Saturna had said that. Kael'thas looked at her sideways, "You're damned right that's a No. Because, it would be gross…"

Saturna nodded carefully. Then got confused and started shaking her head. "Right, because it would be really awful to sleep with _two_ Sunstriders at the same time… I mean, maybe not? Ack! Get out!"

"Oh, but I'd bet money that you almost just invited me in."

"Kael'thas you can't just _come_ in here and--Dammit, slip in… barge into my house with your big, sweaty--"

"…personality?"

"I was going to say ego… AAAARGH! LEAAAAAAVE!"

And so the Queen was left alone in her bedroom that night, with an old crumpled letter on the nightstand and a fountain pen death-gripped in a cramped, clawed--though manicured--hand. She'd promised herself that she would try re-writing what she had been saving up these past ten years, one last time, for the sake of her sanity, her marriage and the country, by default. There was but one sage person a woman of her status might consult in these things who wasn't a deceptive husband or a shifty Bloodknight ex-friend. She promised almost every week to be discreet, to give clever tips for resolving life's grand pitfalls, and yes, to do all this with a lot of commentary on celebrity scandals too, if they were attendant to the theme. But, really, that might work in Saturna's favor. In fact, her comfort was all but guaranteed when she herself was the most talked about woman in all of Azeroth:

_Dear Fel-Louise,_

_HELP!!!_

"Oh look, that wasn't as hard as I thought. Hehe, I feel better already."

But would she? Would she, really? Saturna felt a surge of mad laughter fogging her mind. For, to entrust so much in the hands of a complete stranger, she had to be losing it. The golden succubus with legs crossed on the bed and singing the Silvermoon Fangirl Scout anthem didn't help either. Saturna had asked once, where in the world Ruthsalia had learned it. Where else, but from Kael'thas?

That man was scary in more ways than one.


	8. Little Lost Deer

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Eight: Little lost Deer**

"BLAIZE!!!" little irate Gnome voices came through the paper thin walls but Celestia yelled her husband's name a second and a third time. "Look, sweetest heart, what arrived in the mail. Our good connections are finally paying off. There was a courier, a courier come from Lady Novia's house—and he delivered this contraband, isn't that wonderful?

"Aaah! Why are you reading it to me, it's not addressed to me. I have no interest in what my ex-wife gets up to, I have enough problems. Anyways, I'm going out to meet Dannox."

"Your stupid free lunch can wait, will you sit down here? It could be about Kael'thas too."

"This isn't celebrity dirt for your column, though. It's a personal letter addressed to you specifically."

"No, no, no. This is surely our ticket." and she dug what felt like claws into Blaize's thigh and forced him back down on the bed beside her. They had very few pieces of furniture. "A formal apology is inside this very envelope, I bet. My good word to Novia, and from Novia to who must be Lady Vashj, and from Lady Vashj to Tyrande and then Queen Sunstrider herself is going to get us un-banished you'll see."

"Ugh, but it's already been opened."

"Well, of course, silly. One can't expect a little prying not to occur, when we're in such dire straights and they know it. But look, all the pages are here, three pages long. A good, good size. Here, let's see it."

It began,

_Dear Queen Celestia,_

_I beg your forgiveness for contacting you so, when really, my husband has forbidden it at the highest levels, but I am desperate. But first, I will congratulate you on safely writing as Fel-Louise for all this time. Before I sent out my original correspondence, it occurred to me that this anonymous person might not be trustworthy, and so I had you investigated."_

Blaize covered his face. "You see? You see! We're finished, we're through. I _told _you this was a foolish scheme, I warned you and you wouldn't listen to me."

"Excuse me sir, but had you at first warned me thirty years ago? No."

_But then I realized, Queen to once-Queen, and considering your current punishment, our correspondence might be secured. _

"AHAA! You weak-willed little man. I'd tell you to grow a pair if I wasn't already so well-acquainted…"

"Shh! I'm trying to read it, this could be our ticket to freedom, Celestia."

_But the greatest problem, I confess, is with my heart. I think that I love my husband though we are estranged. But you and I both know Kael'thas is a fiend. Then, again, I need Kael'thas to guide me where my political errs have occurred, I find that I cannot operate as Queen by myself, though I tried, I don't have the training. I need the King's protection to really achieve anything. And those at Court have sensed—as anyone with eyes would have to, I guess—how distant we are. I never meant to spend so much time at my summer home, rather than the palace, but I fear Kael'thas has become comfortable, with the newest mistress he took after some… unpleasantness after my birthday. This woman is rumored to be incredibly beautiful and graceful, as seductive as a snake in a garden of apples. She could be Queen someday, instead if me if I don't… figure out whether I want him or not. Why is it that, as soon as we're clearly divided, some woman of truly vested interest sinks her claws in? Are schemers all waiting and plotting for lifetimes, to act in such a moment? It's as if Kael'thas has had a complete change of heart, overnight. Oh, Celestia, I promise you that if I ever trespassed on his privacy in such close quarters, I'd just die of shame. That is how good this Rishka woman is._

"Oh, do you see that? Right there, we can perhaps get her on treason. She's already expressed distaste for the King's laws, an adverse opinion of the government, and what else!"

"Celestia, I am _surprised _at you. The poor woman is asking for your help. She thinks of you as some maternal figure. And really, without a history of dissent, no court in the land would convict Saturna, that's how banishment happened to me… Move your fat thumb, I'm reading a line ahead of you, you know!"

_And there is even more, regarding Illidan Stormrage and his son Belorim, Darnassus, and this terrible sense I have that something just isn't right… I cannot go into detail here. We must meet in person. In short, I can't go back to Kael'thas if I can't trust him and I can't survive as Queen without him. There is even more to tell, but it can't be done here. I plan to travel to Dalaran by month's end. If you find yourself interested in some pleasant distraction around that time, and remain in good standing as I hear you are, so as not to make a visit from a Queen with teetering reputation impossible, then we might meet perhaps at the opera, and then retire after dinner to talk privately? I would want to see you alone._

_Sincerely,_

_H.M. Saturna Whiteblade Blaize Sunstrider_

Blaize worried, "Is this really of any use to us? She didn't mention me at all."

"But you must come, Blaize, and we must behave ourselves until then also. An entire month! I should be able to ignore Lady Novia, when she's already so freshly displeased with me. Could you avoid that nasty Dannox for a whole month?"

"That man keeps me in free meals and cigars!"

"Oh, to hell with your damned cigars, they stink up this apartment anyways, and you heard Supervisor Two-sprocket, it's a housing violation to smoke them inside and we're out on the street if he catches you doing it again. General or no General, that is exactly what he said."

Blaize scratched his head angrily. "Well, what am I supposed to do for an entire month, shut up in this apartment alone with you?"

She winked at him, and then laughed loud and cruel because she already knew the answer was a resounding 'no, nothing at all.' So they would suffer together. And, Blaize realized, he could not read her diary if she would be forever in the house and writing in it.

"Fine then, whatever it takes to end this sham marriage and our banishment. You'd better write Saturna back and say I'm still in love with her, or whatever, and make sure that I get to go to the opera too."

"Oh, what a loveless couple we are. My husband is so desperate to go to the opera, of all things, that he begs his wife to indicate to her friend—for now the latest Queen of Silvermoon and I are truly confidantes—that he is willing to have an affair with her. You would prostitute yourself for a night at the opera, is that what I'm hearing, Blaize?"

Blaize grumbled, went into the sitting room where his regular sleeping arrangement on the couch was set up, then slammed the door.

_One year ago, in Ashenvale…_

Belorim Stormrage slammed the door when his wife shared Thrall the Farseer's news. The big Tauren woman snatched the door back open. They lived in a beautiful tree in Ashenvale, and had some kindly neighbors too, but not if they thought Belorim was as cruel as he _looked_. She knew the trial behind that.

"I'm sorry, my love, but it was not meant to be. The Queen of Quel'thalas is not your mother."

"But I was so sure of it! Please, May, I just want to be alone."

She got strong arms around him, and refused to move. "Do you remember how we met?"

"I can't. Not right now… please don't—"

"You were only four years old, like I was, and lost too like I was, in the Sunspire. But my parents were the Caretakers there, and I helped you. As it turned out, we were the very ones Thrall sent to manage the city for Kael'thas. Remember, deer?" and she did mean the animal. Belorim had such handsome hooves and he carried his Demon horns as proudly as a stag, "We were ghostwolf puppies together, getting into messes and running all sloppy and silly round the place. Don't you remember how I taught you about the ghostwolf?"

"But why was I even there, in the castle? If I was an orphan then how would I get into the palace? Where were my guardians, or the orphan matron desperate to reclaim me? I can't possibly believe that I was there by accident, just dropped off or sneaked in on my own. Not at four years old, May!"

She nuzzled her snout against his neck. The soft fur seemed to soothe him. "I don't know why, but you don't seem to ever remember. I am just grateful that, after we lost one another…well, we let those Bloodknights out of their cells first, and freed Ma and Pa, and they got Blaize and Celestia under arrest first… but years later, we were reunited, Bim."

"You and your parents are the only family I really believe in. So many years in Shadowmoon Valley, alone with that Illidan. I never believed he was my father, though I had to call him that--not _really _my father. And Tyrande was no help! I always sensed there was something wrong with the both of them, and today, I felt so close to finally finding out what that is. You should have seen me argue with Malfurion back at Vashj's wedding. I was so sure, I told him that I knew Lady Vashj was behind everything… one part of my life not matching up with the latter half. It's as if I'm not meant to exist at all, it makes no sense!"

May didn't mind her husband crying. In fact, she relished the show of pure emotion. He so rarely shared.

The next morning, Belorim went out in the yard and just started chopping wood. He'd wound a leather strap across his chest to keep his wings pinned down on his back. He wasn't very good at flying with them, and they often just served to get in the way. May thought it was smart; while wearing it, he wouldn't catch his wings on the axe. And… it also complimented his fine figure. She chewed a thumbnail while she stood in the back doorway and imagined him reeling back, strong arms over head, at the apex of the swing, and then suddenly, the tight leather strip would rip and snap apart as he flexed his mightiest!

"Hey May,"

"Mm, yes deer?"

Belorim stuck his tongue out at her. Then he went back to work, blonde hair streaked with black flying. His horns dipped when he bent low and stuck axe blade into the stump. His horns resembled black-tipped white bone, she felt, was very Tauren, though Belorim didn't stand such comparisons for long. He was proud of being a Demon, and he was proud of being a Night Elf—somewhere, from Illidan—and he was proud of being a Blood Elf, because that had become obvious about him too. Good, he was feeling better. She swished her tail, laughed at her embarrassingly powerful imagination, then went back inside to the earth-circle drawn in their dirt living room.

Fire. Water. Earth. Air. Four totems were cast. May's mother was named Skywarden, also a Farseer. And her father was Lesser Two-Bears, from a long line of druids. One of his horns was shorter than the other, and he had a wonderful worldview to go with that. May recalled it as she began to dance: "Something in life always falls short, so that you can see better out from under it. And then the long blessings, those were the ones to be used. Fight with the long horn. Protect with the short. Sword and shield, sword and shield." That is what Lesser Two-Bears would always tell Belorim when they visited Thunderbluff.

May had never told her husband this, but their reunion on Spirit Rise almost ten years later was no accident. Her mother had advice for Belorim too, before Belorim even really came to know her parents. Mother Skywarden had found him while on a Vision Quest:

_He was a scrawny thing and naked. Hungry. In pain, so much pain. I thought I recognized him so I told my windserpent to leave me and go get him fish._

Windserpents were powerful guardians in the spirit world. A shaman was truly vulnerable without some creature who could ground them in both worlds, should some villain trespass on the crystal plane of death. That was why Skywarden was not her mother's real name. No one in their family, not even May's father, knew what Skywarden's birth name had been. And then there was Skywoven, an evil shade created by Naralex when her mother fought him in the Wailing Caverns… Oh, but May's imagination was beginning to rove again. It was yet another story. Let us return:

_The windserpent entered the caverns and told me the young man would not eat. 'He is thirsty, then' I said. 'Go and get him something to drink.' So off the windserpent went, to find a cactus segment. The flying snake wound his tail round it, and squeezed it into the man's waiting mouth, but the water turned to steam and disappeared on his tongue. At last, I left my fight with the druids of nightmare, and went to see about this old friend who could see my windserpent. For, his soul was truly lost._

"_Who are you?" I asked._

"_I am Belorim. Born-of-the-Light."_

_I remembered him and embraced him instantly. I asked the boy-gone-man what he was doing in the spirit world. Belorim said that another serpent had stashed him there. She was not ready to retrieve him yet. Not until Queen Azshara walked that plane of existence, was Belorim to try and go back. The death of Azshara would have been momentous, I couldn't imagine how powerful a creature could be to order around a boy not yet dead and then also kill a Queen who was mostly a monster now, thousands of years old. Someone that even Tyrande and Malfurion, Illidan and Vashj hated to remember: the bringer of the Legion and the Venom. The head of the vile Moon-Cult, who had nearly destroyed the world._

_But then, Belorim said it was Vashj who aspired to kill Queen Azshara. She was conjuring vile magics beneath the Maelstrom at that moment to see to it. She was no hero. I was horrified. But I could not leave the Spirit World with my work in the Caverns not yet finished. I promised Belorim that I would send my daughter to retrieve him, if he would meet her in Thunderbluff. For, he had the look in his eyes of a tired spirit, who walked the land of the living but also the land of the dead at the same time. A Wayward One, an anomaly. Someone who was not supposed to exist in at least one place._

And so May—and she was shocked to see it truly happen—met the man her mother had met and made arrangements with, only in the Spirit World. Belorim was aware of both places, but his heart and mind could not tell the difference. And no, he did not recall having made the date on the otherworldly plane. But, later, Mother Skywarden told May this when at last she returned from her vision quest--the spirit of Belorim had thanked her for arranging the meeting. If Beloirim ever died, his spirit would have no place to go and be safe. He would be lost forever in both lands, not exist. Who had done this to him?

At last, May achieved her moment of clarity. She sat down in the circle and curled her tail beneath hooves. Her husband needed to live. Warchief Thrall had to be wrong, somehow.

_A blonde woman came to May. Her face was as wide as the Sea. _

"_You are my husband's mother? Why did you abandon him? Do you know how much pain he has suffered?"_

_The woman said, "I am the one who made him, but I am not Belorim's mother. Saturna is the one who carried him, for a little time. But she did not birth him. She is not his mother, either.""_

"_How ridiculously technical spirits are!"_

"_It was his father, his first father, who set Belorim on this terrible course. But without Belorim's true existence in either life, I have been forbidden to acknowledge this spirit-father, lest another terrible consequence should result from the anomaly. And all creatures would--in time--perish, if I broke the rules of what What Must Be."_

"_You cannot be that important, Creature. Give me the spirit-father's name."_

"_I am Anveena. You may call me the Sunwell." She laughed._

_May was overcome with emotion. She did not know what this all meant, for Belorim to have been made by the Sunwell! Fear bloomed in her mind, she could only think of her husband, she could only think of what he might have lost, and that she had to protect him from all the present danger he was in. _

"_The name! What is his father's name?"_

_Anveena was the face of gold water itself. She kissed the sparkling liquid surface from underneath and it rippled. A blue dragon ascended, legs going slow and awkward like those of a swimming elekk. Its long shimmering neck breached the surface, and then the dragon spread wings. Anveena whispered something to it, as it hovered over her face, and then they kissed again, this time he was outside of the water. Kalec. It was Kalec. His name was his very spirit, impossible to see him and not know him, his role in it all._

_Kalec answered for Anveena, who could not. "The first father of Belorim, Belorim Sunstrider, is Kael'thas."_

May stood up immediately. The plane between this one and the next, the place of dreaming faded in the circle. Her house was beyond, old pillows, dusty bookshelves and scattered trinkets. The appropriate nest for two people who loved each other and their work more than they minded reality itself.

"…BELORIM!!! Come, quick!"

When he got there, his wife snapped the band across his chest, let Belorim wince like a kid, hug his pecs and curse her for it. Then, May told him the good news.

"But before we get any justice at all, Bim deer," she warned, "we'll need to get his confession."

_Today…_

Belorim Stormrage had grown tired of waiting for the Warchief Thrall to approve his personal war.

The Fel Elf dug his claws into the white stone wall and waited. What Arthas was rumored to have done so many years ago to his birth-mother, he was about to try in broad daylight. Belorim realized that made his current plan both risky and stupid. But he didn't care.

Voices came through the long row of windows into the royal bedroom.

"No, Kael'thas, I just came to get a few things, that's all. I'll be meeting Chao'thas in Dalaran at the end of the month. How do you do, Rishka?"

Who was that? The long-legged silhouette of a nude woman filled the nearest window pane. He saw his spirit-father, Kael'thas, shutter the curtains.

"Well isn't it nice that you've finally met my mistress. But don't change the subject. Saturna, I know who is also in Dalaran right now. Of course you can't go as Queen, with Blaize and Celestia there too. Isn't the Convocation of Silvermoon angry enough with you? I recall at their last meeting, my expenditure on your separate lifestyle is a drain on the damned Treasury."

They went to the other long end of the room, and the argument muted. Belorim found himself gazing at the mistress of his spirit-father. This Blood Elf woman, Rishka was proud to be so undressed. She had ebon hair, and wore hands constantly on her naked hips. Belorim sniffed the air, knew her energy beneath the goosebumps on his skin. This woman was intensely stubborn, feral. A threat. In the end, it was Rishka's intimidating presence which caused the argument to fold, and inspired Saturna to flee the bedroom with half-packed suitcase, saying she could manage to purchase the rest of essentials by month's end. The Queen also raced away from the man she had given up--if the rumors held true. Then the door closed. How would Belorim take two of them?

Lock click. Beyond the wall, patient ears twitched. Lights back out. The shadow of a gentile hand offered the lady a place beside its master, on the bed. Belorim took a great big breath, then scrabbled over stone, pumped webbed wings hard, came out of cloaking and crashed horns-first through the window in one moment.

"Rishka, don't even think about it!" Kael'thas yelled. Belorim seized his father by the wrist as he conjured magic, then crushed it and threw him across the room. Kael'thas crashed through a table, caught his balance on the gold curtain and then tore it on his way down.

"You know me…" Belorim closed in.

"Belorim? Rishka, put that back down, as I said. And send the guards away," because they had started knocking on the door. "We're not endangering Illidan's son at any cost."

"I am his son in flesh only! But I'd bonded with you, I knew only you, loved you, depended on you, ten years ago. But why did you send me away? Why did you betray me?"

Kael'thas asserted that he did not know what Belorim was talking about.

"What happened ten years ago, before Vashj went down to the Maelstrom? How did she ever get her hands on me, you would never have allowed that. You had already saved me from Illidan and Tempest Keep. Hadn't you? Do you know what it was like to grow up with such a mad and cruel father? Why did you not spare me all of that?!"

"I don't remember."

Belorim pointed an accusing talon. The statement echoed all over the room. Kael'thas had not denied it, said only that he did not recall the sin.

The King's mistress finally came into full view. Belorim flinched to see that she had blue eyes. She was not a Blood Elf, but a Highborne. A Highborne loyal to Kael'thas?

He blurt out, "Does Vereesa Windrunner know you're here?!"

She set her teeth together, forcing a smile when she was clearly so offended. It caused her to hiss. "Vereesssa has created the United Elven Social Club with her sister, Sylvanas. Soon, all Elves will break their spears and live as one. Three different peoples suffered incredible tragedy. And even the Naga--"

"No one cares about Naga. Curse or not, they are selfish, scheming evil creatures who would do anything--"

"There are worse thingsss, than being raised by Illidan Stormrage!" she shouted.

Belorim crouched down, like a kicked kitten. There was only one horrible woman in all of Azeroth, who ever crooned over Illidan's name like that. Regardless of what had passed between them, or who she shared a bed with now, nothing could erase that, at one time, Illidan had been her savior. It was all his captor ever mourned about while beneath the Maelstrom those five years he alone seemed to acknowledge: that she needed desperately to be with Malfurion, if _he_ would not take her. And if _he_ would not take her, then Vashj needed desperately for _him_ to forgive her.

Belorim turned back to Kael'thas. "I've figured out everything. It finally makes terrible sense. Please, now I'm begging you to come with me! You're in danger… father."

Kael'thas rolled up one sleeve, felt his aching arm. He said, "Illidan?"

"_Yes." _came the voice resounding through their Soul Link.

Belorim shouted, "Before you do anything, Father, know that I am an anomaly. I am the one person not meant to be in this life. When I die, the spirit world will not have me, and while living, I can have no truth, no purpose either, it seems…" his voice broke, "I have nothing left to lose, being the vortex around which this crazed world revolves, all of my father Illidan's power, and then your own too--proficiency in every single school of magic. And, I suspect that I also bear the mark of the Sunstrider line, or else you would have never misplaced your trust, let me get my hands on you like that. But if you come back with me to Ashenvale, I can do for you, what you failed to do for me a decade ago. If you choose to fight me now, father, then I can best you, rip you apart. May and I have done research all these years, Kael'thas. I've got Venom on both sides of the family, there's no telling what can do, and there would be no stopping me!"

"…contact May and tell her where her husband is."

"Dammit!" Belorim smacked his forehead, between the curling horns. Nothing could stop him, except for that.

Rishka tried to grab hold of him first, but Belorim grabbed Kael'thas by the collar and brought them both smashing back through the window and several vases placed there. Rishka shielded her face from the flying glass and torn roses, but was drenched by the water. Below, the two men wrestled as they fell, their shadows merging on the yellow cobblestone below as it drew nearer. Rishka tore at the curls in her hair, leaned beyond the jagged glass and let it slash her abdomen if it willed, but she would not lose this chance to curse the little boy-beast who would still dare to be a thorn in her side. Then, both men disappeared.

The slippery velvet tresses turned into hissing snakes, between green fingers.

"I _will _be Queen on high, I've already waited thousssands of years. What is twenty more, Belorim? What is even one more? Grr! Kssskssskssshiaaaaa!"


	9. Sunthraze Sunthraze

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Nine: Sunthraze Sunthraze**

In order to banish a strong feeling that the world was fast coming to an end, because some horrible female creature snored, making nightmare just beyond the reach of his own life, plotted in his past, through into his present, and then drove the dagger clear and hot, to stab and wound his future… Blaize sneaked his wife's diary back to the sofa, in the dead of night. He of course, believed the premonition to be the horror of being shut up alone with Celestia for an entire month, not the portal to the truth this magic golden book had opened in his mind. The General could not know this, however, until he learned the importance of looking for it. And by then it would be too late, the book must have mused, as it flipped and shuffled and twisted his effort to play with it when there was work to be done. Poor, poor him.

_Less than thirty years ago…_

Anasterian leaned back on the grass, and Lord Roan Sunthraze took the King's fishing pole for him.

"We look so strange together doing that, Roan. Why didn't you just use the pole I gave you?"

"I'm the fancy Lord and Master of a whole household—"

"A dilapidated household built on a floundering Hawkstrider business. Though, I really am impressed you passed down your name so well. Sunthraze Sunthraze."

"My son has a good name." Roan shrugged. "What about your son… I know the first and the second, but I also hear that every Sunstrider gets a middle name, in the ancient language."

"Eh, I couldn't tell you. I shouldn't tell anyone."

"Ah, I see. It's forbidden. Sounds a lot like my half-brother. We're not allowed to talk about the demented bastard who gelded your son's Hawkstrider fresh out of the egg, either."

Anasterian bent over his knees and laughed hard. "No, it's not that… you still talk to your half-brother?"

"The literal bastard of the family? Eyup, I do. We keep an eye on him, he's rather unstable. Ho! We've got one. Here's your first fish, Annie."

The two men stood together, shouted, and made a comical effort of grabbing each other's hands and pulling it in together. "No, Annie, reel, _reel_ it in. Turn it."

"I'm turning, I'm turning! Gods, this bastard is strong—"

"I know! What in the heck did you use for bait?"

"…arcane crystal. Nice, oh look at that size."

It flopped all around, Roan raced uphill a little in case it did some amazing leap back into the lake.

"Is that my dinner?"

"No, Annie, that's _my_ dinner. My land, my fish. You're too rich to eat fish. I'm too poor to argue with you anymore. Aaaand… you're wife's a bitch."

Anasterian kept laughing. "Well it did rhyme, it did." They jogged back to the Sunthraze estate, shouting like boys.

Dinner was thin, Anasterian noticed. Roan hadn't been kidding. "Well," he halfway explained when he caught Anasterian staring at the nub of a candlestick they were seeing by, "It's my father's fault. He left me a small inheritance, gambled away most of it before I got it, though."

"Roan… we're like brothers, you know. I wish you'd tell me. I have money."

"Eh, it's the country's money. I'm fine, anyways. Just glad _someone_ taught you how to fish, aren't you almost past your thirties?"

Anasterian kept eating. The fish was not bad. "We're brothers, Roan."

Roan nodded his head, sniffed a bit. They weren't but he knew exactly what Anasterian meant.

"Which is why this is so hard to tell you… your wife—that is, my wife Celestia knows your wife. She's having an affair."

"I'm not surprised to hear that Celestia's stepping out on you, considering what you do to her."

"Roan."

The other man set his fork down. "I should have known you had a better reason to visit me than to learn fishing. Well, what do I care? She's at your court, it's your fault anyways."

Again, "Roan."

Roan got up from the table and swatted his plate onto the floor. "Dammit, Annie. I knew she was, I knew it… I just didn't want anyone to tell me. Not to my face like this, not out loud, Annie."

Anasterian set down his knife and fork. "Are you ready for the rest?"

"Is little Sunthraze mine?"

Anasterian shook his head. "I don't know."

"I blame your bitch wife!"

"I blame her too. But I didn't want your wife coming to Court anyways, not without you."

Roan yelled and sat in a rickety chair at the far side of the room. "So, it's some rich person, yes? Someone with a title like mine, or higher, and more money."

"Sadly, no. It's some young upstart… Nathaniel, something."

"What? That's not a last name, Annie, I need a last name, so I can kill him."

"Hold on, now. If you're going to kill him then you won't get a last name."

"Gods, I gave my boy my very own name, our good name… I can't stand it, I couldn't stand it if it was some punk's kid."

Anasterian pushed his plate across the table. And then left some gold coins. "I'll handle it."

"No, not you, you crazy sonofabitch. After the way you 'handled' the last priestess of the Sun Cult? She had a heart attack later, as soon as they got back to the temple, you know."

"Look, I don't fucking care. You are my friend. You are my brother, I'm going to handle this."

"The courts are already against you Annie… don't. Please don't. I won't take your money, here! Take this back, I don't want this, I said!" he threw the gold back at him. "That money belongs to the people, Annie, don't fucking give me something that isn't mine."

Anasterian gripped his friend by the shoulder. "I promised Anthene'alas that I would take care of you. Let me do that. Now, I'm going to handle this guy. Don't do anything stupid, okay? Should I stay the night? Do you want me to send someone so that you're not alone?"

"Do you have a spare whore, by chance?" Roan laughed bitterly. Anasterian shook his friend once, looked him in the eye, pointed. "Don't leave the house until I take care of it."

Then, he left.

_General Blaize scratched his nails against the back metal cover of the book, as he read this part. _

The castle was dark. Celestia entreated her husband to the sort of thing she felt kept him most in line when she saw him coming in so late, but Anasterian put a gloved finger to her lips. "Go to bed. Don't come back out. Where's Lillith?"

"Lilly? Lilly Sunthraze? Why, I haven't—" then Anasterian came into her lanternlight, and she saw that he was ready to kill her too. "Three doors down, in the spare room. Annie, please, I thought she would just benefit from a bit of fun, I never thought it would come to a baby."

Anasterian covered Celestia's mouth and pushed her back through the door of their bedroom. "Roan is my last and only friend, got it? Not you… stay in here!"

He came back out, melted the metal knob with his hand. Then, a slow angry walk down the hallway. There was laughter coming from the room at this hour, of course. Anasterian counted to one, then two, three…

Snapped his fingers, the lock clicked free, then slipped inside the room.

"You!" he pointed, and the young man frightened out of the bed. "Oh, no, don't run. We're just getting started."

"Annie, stop. Stop it," went Roan's wife Lilith. "Nate's just a little thing, he doesn't know. And we were just playing around. Don't you play around with your whores? A woman can do it as well as a man!"

"You're drunk. Shut up." Anasterian pushed her back over, and Lilith, in all her new mother's weight, fell back onto the bed. "Come here. What's your stupid name? Nate? How about I flay you a brand new orifice."

"No, sir, please—"

"Sir? I'm the King of this damned castle!"

"Shit—"

"Get back here, Blaize, I'm not through with you, yet."

The young Blaize grabbed the doorknob and shouted for help, but Anasterian waved a hand about the room. A glittering arcane shield. "Your voice, not even fire can get through that, Blaize."

"Look, please, your Majesty. Have pity on me, I'm new to all this… and I'm lucky to be here, I'm just trying to make my way, any way that I can. You'd do it too. I'm an orphan, I haven't got a family or a fortune, I just got here by my wits."

"Your wits? Are your wits the very same device that guided you toward screwing around with my confessor?"

Blaize raced to recall who that might be.

"Too many women for you to remember, huh? Sister Liadrin. She told me all about you. That is when I got suspicious, when I started paying attention to Nathaniel Blaize, the ladykiller. You shattered that woman's life!"

"HELP!"

"Annie, please, don't hurt him, don't."

Anasterian crouched in front of Blaize, who sat trembling on the floor. "You can't come back to Court."

"I know, I… I wouldn't dare, I promise."

"You can't come anywhere near my family, or my friends."

"Yes. Yessir…"

"You're so full of shit, you know that? I don't believe a word you just said. What's really going to stop someone like you from going on to ruin more lives?"

Lillith yelled, "You gods-damned hypocrite, you step out on Celestia all the time, and she knows it. Hey, why don't you try telling Nate what you did with that Confessor, Liadrin."

"Don't you EVER speak about Sister Liadrin like that!" Anasterian shouted at her, without turning around. He grabbed Blaize by the shirt collar. "She's a good woman, do you hear me? A lovely person. She needed love, and I gave her that… and I am going to protect her from my mistake. Not like you. You dishonored her and left her reputation in question, forced her to be cloistered."

"Please, please, I don't know what you're saying. Just let me go. I just want to go home…"

Anasterian rolled up his sleeves, and cracked the knuckles on one hand with his thumb. "Let's try a little experiment first. I have a theory that it is impossible to enchant the romantic center of the brain so that a man never, ever hurt someone else again. Only, I'm just a mage, I don't get to test it out on worgs and such we find in the woods, like my son does. He's a good boy, and honorable young man, studying in Dalaran and pursing women in the right way. You could learn something from Kael'thas. But, since you won't ever be so lucky… if this works…"

Blaize lashed about, but Anasterian put both hands on the young man's head. Blaize fought it, he couldn't see the man hurting him for the terror, or the black room.

Lillith cried out. She saw the red magic spark, and hit Anasterian with pillows, punched him, and finally, she got her whole arm around his neck.

"Blaize! Run!"

He scrambled for the doorknob and ran. Celestia never listened. She arrived not long after, with her lantern. Lillith, the so-called best friend, was busy strangling her husband the King.

"You stupid bitch, let go!" and they fought. At last, Celestia summoned magic of her own and blasted Lillith with a frostbolt that sent her crashing across the room.

Anasterian struggled to get air. He did not expect to be sneaked up on, and a mage who couldn't breathe couldn't fight either.

"Honey, are you okay? Annie, sweetheart, breathe for me…" He did. Celestia helped him up.

"Deal with your so-called friend however you want, my Queen… I need to get to Roan."

That night, a beautiful young woman knocked on the door of the Sunthraze estate. There was a carriage waiting in the road to see her in. The door opened finally, and after she disappeared inside, Anasterian leaned forward to tell the driver to go.

The woman walked up the dark stairs, the butler leading the way with a final snap of candle. His cheeks were hollow. They passed an old room with a beautiful mirror across the hall from it. It had been a lady's room. At last, they came to the Master's room. Three knocks. No answer.

"Mi'lord. A woman's come from Anasterian Sunstrider."

Roan peeked into the hallway, then he undid the chain on the inside of the room and let her in. "Who are you?"

She curtsied. "A gift. From a very good brother. She laughed, followed Roan back to his chair and into his lap. Mmm… so then, what should we do with all this bedroom?" she hugged him. "You look like you need some cheering up, sweetheart? What's the matter?"

"My wife finally went too far. I don't even know if my son, my little baby is mine? And I've lost my fortune, I have nothing left."

"Exceeeept. As many nights as the King will happily pay for… with a very, very, very good whore."

Roan stared at her. "What if I'm too heartbroken?"

"Then we can talk." She took his hand. "Or, drink." She reached into her cleavage, though it was a simple white dress she was wearing, she just wore it extremely well, and brought out a silver flask. "Granted, I don't like using the 'w' word, but Annie thought you might need some obvious connections made tonight."

"Is that bastard who stole my wife from me paying for it?"

"Worse. He's branded. And Anasterian put the fear of the Sunstriders into him for the rest of his life."

Roan had a good look at her, she called herself Melody, and then he had some of Melody's drink. Once he was relaxed enough, he asked Melody to sing. She had the golden voice of a bird, and could be heard throughout the house for many weeks after that night. Roan resigned himself to love her, on the people's gold. Lillith and the son Roan assumed was a bastard, were both thrown out of the house.

Later, Blaize timidly asked Celestia about the event.

"Was that you, with Lady Sunthraze?!"

"I got so drunk that night… I succeeded in forgetting, I thought. Until… well, something caused me to remember it."

"Well, I don't know what happened to Lillith. I didn't feel like helping her after she tried to kill my husband, and so I suppose we weren't friends afterall." Celestia suspected it was her gold diary causing her husband to remember such obscure parts of his youth, but it was within her original design to bond with Blaize, so, for a second time, she chose not bring up how obvious it was that he was reading it.

"Sunthraze the Sly. That baby grew up to be the very same Bloodknight who gave me so much crap when he was in the Sunfury Army. I hated that sniveling, smartmouthed idiot!"

"Smartmouth? Well, that's funny. I suppose it was Roan's son, afterall. I warned Anasterian not to go so far. Roan might have forgiven Lillith, he still loved her. But Annie wanted to throw money at the problem and impress his friend. So, Roan fell in love with a whore, and Melody got so very much out of the royal Treasury by the time the King's trial came along. The entire Convocation of Silvermoon accused him of corruption, and what did it look like when someone produced evidence that Annie purchased a whore for his best friend, and funded the man's pleasures for several months?"

"Did they marry?"

"Oh, no, not at all. Anasterian was forced to put a stop to it, the same way he was forced to get rid of Liadrin when I didn't like her, no matter what protection nonsense kick he was on; people don't like _whores_, Blaize, at the end of the day. They only tarnish our reputations when we go through life at a certain level. I hope that terrible story you told me about Dannox and his one-legged opera singer isn't true. Well, in any case, Melody left when the money ran out. Roan was too changed by it to be of any use to anyone… I think he invited Lillith and their baby to come back to the estate, but eventually it all just withered and died. I'm not surprised the son ended up as a Bloodknight. He can't have had any other skill to rely upon, except Hawkstrider whispering… if his father taught him at all."

Blaize took a deep breath. Anasterian had destroyed Sunthraze's life, on a whim. And Blaize realized that he nearly did, too.

"What did that boy ever amount to, after he was a Bloodknight?"

"Hrm? Oh…" Blaize scratched his head, feeling tired, "He made Kael'thas very mad, I remember. Married a woman who was as crazy as a knife, but she was a real firecracker to make up for it... no offense. And then I think Sunthraze got into something with Goblins…but they're all friends with Kael'thas now, I expect. If not for Sunthraze the Sly and the rest of their order, Anasterian's own son would be lost to the Legion or worse."

Celestia had been taking off her earrings before bed. "It seems like Bloodknights aren't useless afterall. Oh, Annie, how could you have known what you started? It's just sad, I guess."

"But you had a part in it too. I mean, my part was really awful, but if you hadn't encouraged that woman Lady Sunthraze to break up a happy home… Celestia, don't you feel bad at all?"

She caressed her round arms. Blaize was too tired to stop himself from liking the sensuous curve of them, and all the passionate swell of the rest of her body. Her bust, her hips, her legs…

"Blaize, I'm more upset that I don't remember you at all. We were together, at Court." A surprised laugh, "And I let you slip away…"

Blaize pointed out that Anasterian would have truly killed him, if it was the two of them sleeping together. She turned to him suddenly, "Did he hurt you?"

Blaize scratched his head again, combed out the hot white streak in his red hair, using his fingers. "It's just this… and migraines I get sometimes. And, he did not actually, teach me to fear Sunstriders."

"Fear can also mean a sense of reverence, of worship."

"Maybe Anasterian convinced me in that moment that Kael'thas, his son, was a good guy. I was a punk kid, going nowhere. It's safe to say that he scared me straight, for the most part. I did join the army, you know. Rose up through its ranks and became a General."

"Do you know what is also compelling about this story?" she grinned wickedly, "If I didn't know Roan so well, we might both be terrified you were that boy Sunthraze's father. Both of you redheads, and obsessed with making money, fame, wild women…"

"Oh, Celestia," he made a face then laughed against her shoulder. "You are a wild and _terrible_ woman to tease me so easily."

"And you're an awful man. Here, lay next to me. Hug me… I adore you, Blaize."

He continued kissing her arm, licked and sucked her elbow.

"If I had known back then, what I know about you now, I would have run away with you."

Blaize was flattered, though he didn't fully believe her. "And we'd have no money, either."

"It's true, it's true. You're handsome and charming, and sexy. In a way… that's another kind of wealth."

"Charm and whatnot are all the same thing. Don't you like anything else about me, besides my looks?"

"Your heart. Perhaps you think of yourself as losing the love of the Queen of Quel'thalas, but I rather think that you stole her heart. And, you've stolen mine. I feel safe with you, Nathaniel. Though you're so mean, I can't understand it. What do you have to be so upset about? Did you want to be King, like Anasterian? Deal with what he did? Or, fight with Kael'thas over a simple woman for the rest of your life? Saturna is simple."

"She's fine." Blaize objected. "And I have another question. To your knowledge, is it possible for certain magical objects to spite a person precisely for trying to use them and get specific information out of them!"

Celestia dodged this, as it was too near a confession for tastes. The game between them was not yet done. "She's a fool. Saturna is asking _me_ for help, Blaize, and I plan to eat her alive."

"And just how do you intend to do that?"

"Well, I'm going to throw you at her. I know you want to."

Blaize smoothed a hand down her hip. "You are the one who feels good. And you're smart. I think I've given up hope here in Dalaran, floating by on cigars and free meals, but you haven't. You and your schemes with Novia, you're keeping our heads above water."

Celestia was moved by the compliment and forgot herself. "Sweetheart. Just love me back. I don't know what Kael'thas did to you, but I'm a Sunstrider too. Worship me if he let you down, protect me, fight for me. I'm about as big as a country."

"Haha, no you're not. You look good, Celestia. And I want you."

"Yes, you can have me whenever you want. But not right now, because I'm so tired."

Blaize climbed over her. "Oh, you mynx! Come here… and you have another thing going for you. You knew that contract of mine wasn't going to work all those years ago, but you still let me be King for a little while."

"Oh, Nate, I just needed to see you shine. You wanted it badly, and you were so cute with your wayward hope, of course I was going to help you. I think, perhaps, I wanted to believe in your dream too. And so, I married you, took all your money and what was left of your good reputation. But don't forget. The people came to love me, only because they loved you." She kissed him back.

"And you robbed the cradle with me. Do have any idea what that feels like, to be treated so well after I've gone through hell and back? Why do you even bother? You must feel tied down to me. It's Kael'thas' decree that's keeping us in this situation, not any kind of mutual--"

"Shh. My handsome husband, I don't ever stop having adventures. That is what I think you are."

Then they laughed and played together, for the first time. The little gold book and its peculiar scarlet stain slipped from the edge of the bed, perilously forgotten.


	10. How I met his Mother

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Ten: How I Met His Mother**

The diary made Blaize pay dearly that. When he risked everything to read again, it put him precisely at the heart of memories so opposed to his goal for cracking into the golden book in the first place.

_Fifteen years earlier…_

It was immediately clear that Magnus the Unmaker was not a man to be trusted.

"I come here and get a good look through the Queen's window every Sunday."

But the document naming Blaize as the King of Quel'thalas was starting to poke his ribs, and the memory of Kael'thas Sunstrider dismissing him, after so many loyal years, was starting to wear on Blaize's nerves. He was either going to get everything he wanted and soon, or Kael'thas was going to die. Maybe, both.

"And you say that she's lonely? I'm all over lonely…" Blaize mounted up.

"Very. It's no coincidence that they put archers just up there." Magnus pointed to the high wall just beneath Queen Celestia's tower window. The Silver Covenant outpost in Terrokkar Forest was not meant to be so important, but to some Highborne, it was as good a hideout as any. There were few places in Outland or Azeroth where anyone who remembered or served the late King Anasterian Sunstrider could be properly welcomed. And, doubly vexing, nobody with any real connection to his son Kael'thas Sunstrider would never be comfortable in Dalaran, with the Kirin Tor.

Blue slate roofs just peeked over the pristine white stone fortress. Magnus could not be more of a Blood Elf against all that: wild grin, cruel features, eyebrows swept up like a raven piercing earthward, after prey. He was also a pretty boy, which Blaize found irritating. Magnus had this irritating habit of twining fingers in ebon hair as he spoke--and at that, often indulging yawn-some, endless narration. He grasped curled locks suddenly on loving a new idea, then would turn and kiss that handful of hair. Weird.

You're not prettier than I. "How old are you, Magnus?"

Magnus confessed that he was even younger than Kael'thas.

Clearly, you're a sociopath. "Well, I suppose you still know your way around things. And this master of yours… are you altogether certain he's an esteemed anti-monarchist? I find it curious such an employer comes with no name."

Magnus continued to conjure magic. The most complex jumble of bright violet lines Blaize had ever seen. And in the past, Kael'thas had thrown some doosies at the enemy, with the Sunfury Army watching.

"I have sworn body and soul to his cause, as you have promised to aid me. You will be made King, General Blaize. No turning back now."

"Riiight." Hell, as long as I get paid…

When Magnus released his spell, four other Elves appeared. He spoke to them, telling Harmony and Hemlock to go one way, and for Jealousy and Punishment to flank him. Blaize had only ever seen Deathknights or Warlocks conjure sentient pets before. He almost got back down off his Hawkstrider mount.

Each person had something witty to say, then bowed, and pranced off-stage into the bushes. "Now people, remember to smile, project your voices, and no backs to the audience… because the audience tends to be a Highborne Army with sharp death-implements poised." Actors, ugh.

Blaize waited a ways back, on the road, while he sort of heard Harmony and Hemlock announce King Kael'thas Sunstrider's surrender to the Highborne Cause. Magnus had a jacket fixed with enough of Blaize's exotic medals to make it look official, but still, even then it should not have been so easy…

As Blaize galloped fast through the opened fortress gate, he saw the soldiers' eyes so glazed over, and drool warming over quivering lips. They looked at Magnus like he was a meal, and every word a gifted morsel from the heavens and its attendant dragons above. "Nathaniel, you've got ten minutes before they snap out of it…"

Blaize kept his focus in check. Surely, he'd known Magnus for longer than ten minutes? How long did it take to meet a stranger over drinks at World's End Tavern and then decide to entrust him with your secret plans for screwing over King Kael'thas?

He stayed on his Hawkstrider, rode all through the fortress to enthralled and cheering Highborne--it was hard not to return a sharp, Sunfury salute when he was so good at that. When he passed the stables, that got worrisome, because it meant Blaize was going exactly the wrong way, and being lost consumed precious time. But, it was a classic military structure, and he found the civilians' quarters eventually. His bird mount galloped up the steps, squawking and scratching talons everywhere. Grand, grand heroic noise. And then, at the top of the highest tower, he took hold of the most delicate doorknob of all--in black glove--and gently clicked. Blaize found Celestia in a suitable state of un-dress, of course.

Bow at what he still hoped was a trimmed waist. "My Lady. I have been sent from Silvermoon to rescue you."

"And you are?" Though she was already fetching a packed satchel from the closet. Celestia forced a round hatbox into Blaize's arms and took a little yellow book from her desk.

"General Nathaniel Blaize, at your service. Is this a hatbox?"

"No, they're the tears of Anasterian I've been saving, in order to restore the Sunwell. Of course it's a hatbox, Queens don't impress the masses of their incredible import with _rags_. Now, hurry up!"

Back out in the courtyard, Magnus and his acting troupe had convinced the entire place that General Blaize was going to return the once Queen Celestia to her step-son's kingdom as a token of peace, and that another regiment would be sent soon to deliver a messenger with further orders from Kael'thas.

"For the King feels such heavy shame in his heart that he would treat his own stepmother and Anasterian's widow so powerfully wrong. Banishment, for having spent the royal treasury on shoes? Excessively cruel, in anyone's book."

"I am also accused of breaking the late Anasterian's mind, but pick your poison, really." Celestia laughed before all of them, and began to wave farewell gently, from the wrist.

From where he could see sitting behind her on the Hawkstrider, Blaize admired Celestia's villainous wit. And, after all these years, she seemed to still carry herself well. She was perhaps eight years older than Blaize, from what he remembered of Anasterian's court, and never was as lithe as the other women. Celestia was curvaceous even back then, like a classic sculpture of a bathing-woman come to life. A beauty mark sat just so over her self-assured smile, and her gray-streaked hair was coiled to a fault in several rosettes. A simple silver tiara enabled Celestia to lighten the look to something youthful, but a tiny pearl-drop tear hanging from it at the center of her brow prevented her looking too hopeful to turn back time. It completed the once Queen's unique style; she was a classic beauty, and though changed by the times, would not be changed in spirit. Blaize sensed right away that Celestia was the sort who remembered what had been good about Quel'thalas, and would never forget it.

Though the old General liked to think himself above such things, especially in the heat of conflict, an idea kept making him adjust and readjust in the saddle. This woman--no matter shamed by two Sunstriders, was still the creature who had thwarted a thousand courtiers, launched half as many duels among gentlemen in her lifetime, and finally aroused King Anasterian into a near-rage such that he broke his promise to never take a wife again. That could not all be about looks, when there were women pretty enough in Silvermoon at that time, and few young ladies--not the ones Blaize was able to enjoy these last few years, at least--understood that a man did not risk his neck nor good sword-arm on a female without substance. It was made clear enough in all that Celestia had gathered about her as they escaped--the packed-bag standing by, the exhausted waving soldiers she'd managed to keep tolerant of her these last five years, the hope that lent a predatory glint to her eye and all that… No matter her beauty, Blaize now also beheld a diabolical woman--no, wore her close against his hips, save for the animal between them. He grabbed hold of her as they went swiftly with Magnus back through the woods, and Celestia was the one who leaned in, as if it was her energy driving the mount. It exhilarated Blaize, within such a pristine moment, to have believed her capable.

By the time all these lustful thoughts cleared, Magnus had passed through so many tangles and thickets, they were eventually all secured at his camp deep in Terrokkar Forest. Dinner was soup, that Celestia ate proudly. She seemed to realize, however humble, it was her first free meal since her banishment from Silvermoon. Blaize let the bad gruel humble him again, and when it was time, asked Magnus the Unmaker for use of his tent.

Magnus pointed with soiled spoon, then went back to gorging dinner. He could be heard later, ordering about his puppet-people to clean up this and pack up that. "And while you two settle things, I will only be working on the greatest screenplay ever done, my Magnus Opus! Hmph, thank you for asking."

Now out of earshot of the dried up actor, "What exactly is your plan, General?"

Blaize took the scroll from inside of his cloak. "You work quickly."

"You don't look like a stupid man to me, or else I would have let you hump me already." She took the contract and read it while Blaize broke into shocked laughter. "I see…"

"My Queen, the Bloodknight Matriarch is an old acquaintance, she can't deny it. Kael'thas also remembers signing this, I'd bet money he's never really ever so high out of his gourd—how could he have ever conducted so much business in Outland, otherwise? So, you see, I was made King not long ago at Tempest Keep, but I never acted on it. The rest of the Sunfury are loyal to me. They want nothing to do with this caretaker government of Thrall's, nor Kael'thas' interminable lies. We should be stationed within the city and all over Eversong too. I am sure Lieutenants Dacian and Falx will help me re-take that throne. But I cannot get the people to go along with it, as I am a stranger to anyone who wasn't in Azeroth. That is where your connection to beloved Anasterian, as the hopeful widow, and his last name come in."

Celestia sighed, tapped her painted fingernails along the calf-skin back of the document. "You are the one who was married to Saturna Whiteblade. I heard about the Ball at the Black Temple, it happened while I was shut up here in Terrokkar. Are you sure this is about patriotism, General Blaize, the good of the country?"

"I can't have anything else to do with that silly Saturna Whiteblade. I did, truly, love her deeply for a long time, but after she and Illidan—"

Celestia laughed through her nose. "General, you misunderstand me. Yes, I am King Anasterian's widow and still have claim to so much in the empire. For this reason, I have long accepted my fate as a pawn; but my objection is hardly about good intentions or a happy marriage between yourself and I. As a legal Sunstrider, it was only a matter of time before some ambitious Blood Elf or Highborne came to use me in a plot to regain power over the kingdom. I don't care about what your heart needs, what trifles someone so young and inexperienced as you must think come with love: duty, honor, longing… Once my last name makes you King and we two are set up and bonded legally, you can take as many whores as you wish, and I intend to pursue my own happiness as well." She hooked a finger beneath what Blaize hadn't realized could have been a brazier sneaked underneath so many delicate layers of lace, and adjusted it. If lions were proud of their manes, Celestia Sunstrider enjoyed flaunting her breasts with as much threat. Grabbing herself in public, it was almost masculine. "But before even then, I want to know that I will be teaming up with someone who has enough sense to do this for money and control, not for fame. Fame is fleeting. And if what you want in the end is Kael'thas' wife, Kael'thas' life, Kael'thas' connections… then you will only end up with Kael'thas' problems as well."

Blaize scratched his goatee, as his heart pounded in his ears. "Celestia, I think… talking any further is a waste."

Celestia agreed with him. "We are equals, and could have been rivals if we were contemporaries. Our aim is perfect. This is most satisfactory." She offered her hand, and he kissed it.

"Tell me," Blaize found himself laughing once more, "are only lusty simpletons invited to hump Her Majesty, as you called it?"

"Have we got the time to celebrate? The Highborne rangers will realize they've been duped before long though your friend's skill with suggestion is exceptional. I was hoping to be back on Azeroth, at the least, before indulging myself."

"Yourself? You sound as if I will have nothing to do with it."

Celestia preened herself again, a little shimmy and tug to settle exactly as she wanted in the dress. "Forgive me, I am not a coy woman at all. My intentions are thus: If you are as delicious beneath your breeches as you are in speech, as fantastically endowed as your swagger all this while suggests, as powerfully north-bound as your high wit, then, I reassure you, it will be Celestia taking full advantage of you this time, General Blaize. It seems you often had it the other way around."

Blaize came near and kissed her, bewitched. "I don't think I've ever been offered love so shamelessly by a woman. Do you mean that you intend to ravage me? Your skill in subduing a lover could not be better than mine… I thought you'd heard all the stories from the Black Temple?"

Celestia spread the very indestructible magic document out on the floor, and invited him to join her on it. "Fine. Shaking hands on a scheme is so Court of the Sun now, anyways."

Celestia had no words. She hugged him close and allowed Blaize to play however he wished. The night passed too quickly for her. She felt that she should have more to say to a man so elegant and wicked. He would out think her, outpace her, outshine her, and soon. Better yet, she feared she wanted him to do so.

Later, when she no longer felt lonely, "How I marvel at the prospect of seeing you command an entire army, and soon. They must _worship_ you."

"On their better days, yes."

"I can't stand that it's already morning; we must do this again. We match so perfectly well, Blaize."

"I would be happy to oblige if we can manage it, while running from the law."

"Ha! I've not been made to laugh so well since…" Celestia was afraid to finish. Blaize feared to encourage her feeling, so he kissed her cheek instead.

Then, emotion erupted. "Oh, bless you. Blaize, you are so tactfully unkind as to not waste a sentence or effort on anyone unworthy, not too vain nor moral to complicate sharing your body and good skill with it, you are a perfect brute to your lessers and an elegant ass with your equals. A thrill to be near, and underneath, at all times. I praise you, General, I am taken with your ruthless nobility. I will never mistake your meaning or judgment on any one thing, I can already tell." She shut her eyes, and pulled his arm tighter about her waist. The royal contract crinkled between them. "I feared they did not make men like you anymore."

He was struck. Would it be a show of weakness to admit that not even a Prince of Quel'thalas had shown him such kindness? Nor Saturna, nor Liadrin, nor anyone else. Such a personal compliment. "…And I know for a fact they don't make women this sturdy, either."

Celestia yelped laughter, and had to cover her mouth. She did not know that Blaize felt so ignorant to have said it, when he couldn't manage anything as swift and sweet (as sweet as a vain person could manage to do, or a second vain person could strain himself to appreciate). And so, the smile Blaize returned was unusually genuine for him. Celestia would realize this about him much later, though. About right after they were King and Queen, wallowing in greedy bliss, and just before ghost puppies raced through the throne room, having let the vengeful Blood Knights out.

_After reading and recalling such frightfully good memories, Blaize sat on his hands, waiting for Celestia to leave her diary unattended another time that week. He was taken to something written very recently:_

_Dearest Diary, _

_As I recall our coming together, I still believe that banishment for Blaize and myself came too soon. If only we had been King and Queen a little while longer, long enough to really grip power by its balls and feel like authentic allies! Then, perhaps, there would be a friendship beneath this on-again-off-again misery in Dalaran._

Blaize closed his wife's diary, and leaned away from moonbeam to whisper happily in the darkness, "Oh, Celestia. I wish you'd grab _me_ by the balls…"

She stirred awake. "Such language! Excuse me, Sir. But my mouth is only ever dirty for having you in it."

More laughter and rustling sheets. Dannox would never believe what miracle had finally occurred, when at last, Blaize could confide in his fair-weather friend again.

Author's Note:

Have I been watching too much Masterpiece Theater and reading too much Jane Austen? Mayhaps.


	11. Nagas is so crazy

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Eleven: Nagas is so crazy**

_Ten years earlier…_

Vashj entangled her claws in the vine wreathe about Malfurion's neck. "I love you, desperately, I do. That is the real reason I've changed my mind about the Black Temple. Let Tyrande and Illidan have it. We don't want that wasteland, and we don't need either of them. Malfurion, please!"

He could not look at her. "Clearly, letting you come to my bed was a mistake. Entering my dreams was one thing, already…"

"How can you sssay that to me! We were ssspectacular together. And that was only possible because, at our hearts, we are both fiends. I ssserved Azshara, knowing full well what she was, and that she wanted to bring the Legion to Azeroth, sacrifice the Well of Eternity to do it. And you loosssed the gates to that the demon dog could gorge upon your brother, making him what he isss. We were willing to do anything to be great, to live free as more than what we are. Our plansss nearly worked, except for a lone, undeniable flaw: our partners were not worthy."

Malfurion sat by the violet stream in Darnassus. Vashj swatted at drifting autumn leaves before coiling herself beside him. "Do you finally hear me?"

"But I loved Tyrande. She is still so beautiful to me."

"You find a treacherous woman beautiful? She wants to get with child, using your brother. Why else do you think Illidan chose to tell Tyrande about his son with Saturna Whiteblade? It is not a tale of moral responsibility or compassion for Kael'thas who was made to believe the boy was his. No, this is about rabid virility, a spun yarn about his prowess. The aroma of his lies has put her in heat like the bitch she is. Accept it, Malfurion. You lied to get her, and you ssstole. But your brother did not forget. When he finally came to his senses, Illidan ssseized her back with another lie. All Tyrande is, at the end of it, is a woman who wantsss to hear good things and do good things. She would ignore reality to sssavor feeling righteousss. I may be called vain, but her vanity is of a worse sort; she has set a mirror up on the inssside, preens to that. Elune is not really ever let in. It's Tyrande's word before the world, in the face of a long-sssilent goddess. Don't you wonder why that is? Why Elune has not spoken in ssso long?"

Malfurion did not want to answer that question.

"Because your woman is in love with an evil man. She hasss abandoned her people to indulge in him. That is profane."

"Well I've slept with you. A servant of Ysera himself has given over to lust and recklessness with the henchwoman of Illidan and evil Queen Azshara."

"Naga are not evil, Malfurion. We are merely practical. Our world turned to water, and so we learned to breathe it, to ssswim better than we could walk."

"And you all are ugly. Vashj, no matter how wise you are—I do appreciate your counsel, and your magic. I won't lead you on any longer. I could not be with someone as… as cursed as you are. As shallow as it may seem, I would be committing a worse crime when my heart simply won't allow it."

Vashj snarled. "Your body permitted well enough these last few weeksss, what your heart refusssed to allow. That kind of passion overcomes the physical, refutesss destiny. Are you going to lie and say you were not inspired, for the firssst time, to leave Tyrande alone I asked tonight? And, to abandon the feud with your brother? The battle-cats are ready. An entire legion is waiting for us, but instead, you stopped it all and asked for my opinion."

Malfurion scratched a darkening beard. He'd not shaved or plaited his hair since Tyrande left. Beside Vashj, Lady Novia leaned on her gold battle staff. Novia tried her hand at it, "Tyrande won't ever forgive you for what you did to Illidan, Arch Druid. It's been thousands of years."

"I know."

Novia reasoned further, "And you can't forgive her for spoiling what could have been a good and happy marriage, by never trying with you."

"Yes! That I also know. Vashj, if I wanted to consult your minion, I would have asked for her alone, go _away _Novia, for the last time."

Vashj waited until she was gone. Though, Novia and her sharp ears were never far away. "But I know your secrets, and I praise you for your ambition. Yesss, Illidan was the Oscur'Shalak, the prophet. He behaved wild on dreaming--living nightmares. He was conssstantly on the brink of madness, flirting alwaysss with genius. Sssuppose Illidan instead had access to the best kingdom in the world, and at the beginning of the world? His visions would have achieved selfish ends. He needed to be ssstifled and shut up in that tree. You arranged for it before he could do harm."

"Vashj, is this all just because he will no longer sleep with you? Or, has your counsel ever been about what's good for the Kal'dorei?"

"Illidan showed care and preference for me, for years. We were friends, or ssso I thought. But my heart matters little when another woman comes along. That is who he is. No matter that I brought Kael'thasss to him when he needed a warlock, and then put a collar around Kael'thas when Illidan's warlock needed a proper massster. I did everything for him, and he disposes of me. You, however, have lissstened to me and treated me as an equal. Malfurion, I have loved the wrong Stormrage, for all this time."

Malfurion leaned over on his knees, watching their reflections together in the water. A simple stream flying nearby the Cenarion Enclave Then, he focused on just hers.

"You have more power and grace than Tyrande has ever effected, on the outside. Of course your near-deity, Azshara still speaks to you, of course. You are capable of being very faithful Vashj, I realize this. Tyrande sneaked and had affairs, when she was upset with me. She never consulted me. She allowed herself to hate me. But you would have been brutally honest, wild snake to my sigiled bear. We speak a language in common: savage beauty. I do appreciate a woman who is not afraid to fight with me, especially to challenge me as you have these last few weeks and get me to grow the way the Emerald Dream never did. You exposed my weaknesses and forced me to take the dagger and excise the dead-wood from myself." Then he covered his face. "Vashj… I am honored, by being chosen—head and shoulders above the rest—by the Great Seductress _Le Rishka _herself. But, too much time has passed. I cannot see us together. I could never choose you."

Vashj slipped her tail into the pool, then lashed violently, and upset it all over Malfurion. "Then you will go to Shadowmoon Valley and die, alone! Is that what you want? I am offering you new life!"

Malfurion would not be moved. The battle cats roared through portals to Shadowmoon Valley. Against her best advice, and her fervent love for this man, he insisted on making a fool of himself. There would be a war over Tyrande.

The unshackled Naga woman slithered back towards the heart of the city, where Sentinels saluted. She found the lake there, submerged, and did not come back out. The water would swallow her tears.

Novia spread her feet and held her battle staff at the ready. "You should have been High Priestess of this holy city."

The water bubbled, but Vashj said nothing.

"But my Lady, my worship! Malfurion will _ruin it_. All of it. Is there nothing at all that you can do to keep the druids and her priests from fighting, to save us?"

The watery reply, "My plan is too large. For thousandsss of years, my ambition has been too big, for me to fall in love with immortal men and always, _alwaysss _emerge again unsatisssfied."

Novia asked Vashj what she would need, to make it all finally work.

"Oh, you poor naïve thing. You heard Malfurion give in to his hate. You've seen Tyrande go running from here, consssumed by her lust. You've no doubt heard about foolish Kael'thasss losing his Queen and trekking across Northrend to find her. And Arthasss, he calls thisss all a game. A game! I agree with him. We are all pawnsss, being set up to fall if sssomeone does not intervene. In my dreams, I have seen it: Thisss is the age to give up hope. Thisss is the time to ssspoil your health with sssinful revelry, the end. You have come to ssserve me and the Moon Cult too late, girl. For, I would need sssway over time itself."

Novia looked to the sky and its gathering storm-clouds. She prayed for exactly that miracle.

_Five years later…_

Lady Vashj lifted her hand before entering the main shrine of the Black Temple. Scyth'lerin and her consorts paused. The male Naga were all very worn for having survived so many ordeals at the hand of Kael'thas, it felt, a lifetime ago, and then in the recent two battles with Azshara. But, and their reflections in the golden collars the handsome Elven-looking consorts wore confirmed this, they had not suffered for nothing. Vashj could not even resist adjusting the huge aqua-blue diadem in her brunette coifed hair. Snakes had been replaced with abundant ringlets.

She wordlessly pointed to the golden cage in Scyth'lerin's hand. One of her consorts leaned down—Vashj savored the view—and unlocked it. Belorim, now a long-legged boy with serious demeanor, stepped out.

"Now get rid of it." Scyth'lerin took the cage and disappeared around the corner. Vashj extended her hand. Belorim did not want to take it but one of the collared men in embroidered loincloth snapped his very humanoid teeth. Vashj smiled wide and savored that too.

"My friends, thisss is our moment! Look how beautiful and perfect we are." She tugged Belorim's hand near and patted the boy on his head. He looked to be about ten years old. Scyth'lerin rejoined them, they four took a conspiratorial breath together, and then went in the presence of Illidan Stormrage. The two large doors of the Blackened Shrine creaked open and they relished the long walk on two legs.

Illidan smiled on seeing Belorim. Belorim defiantly picked his nose. Tyrande seized her husband's violet arm, and they shared a grateful kiss.

"Lady Vashj. You look better than ever."

"Illidan, I'm right here!" Tyrande was playful, but nervous.

"Well, she does, Tyrande. Don't pretend that you can't remember how Vashj looked before, and then thousands of years before that. Some of us men used to call her _Le Rishka_…"

Now, Tyrande was firm. "If I wasn't aware of your history with the woman, I could have joined in praising her… Vashj." They mock-kissed on either cheek. Then, Tyrande knelt down. A silver sash fell between folds of liquid-white mooncloth as she readjusted her skirts. "Oh, what is his name?"

Vashj sniffed a little snottily at Tyrande crying already. Illidan growled up a fang for his once henchwoman. "…Belorim."

"Oh, that's beautiful. Illidan, so perfect for your son--_our son_! Of the Light, Born of the Light. Oh, thank you Vashj, for saving him from the Maelstrom. Husband, I do not know why you couldn't confess to me that you had a son sooner." She hugged Belorim. "How old are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm ten years old."

"He likesss to play little games with his auntie Vashj, don't you?" then she snapped, "He's only five."

"I said I'm ten. And I want my _real_ father!"

Illidan laughed. It had a roiling, threatening lilt to it. "Bim. There are many things in this life you do not understand, about the way adults work. About what is best for you. Whatever happened in the great storm, that miracle which restored your godmother Vashj to her true form, you must forget it. Think only of the bright future with your beautiful mother. Tyrande is a priestess."

"My mom, my real mom is a ghost." Belorim told Tyrande.

Illidan said, "A ghost? Oh, that is a fun game, isn't it. But do you remember her name? I can't."

Belorim tried very hard… he couldn't remember either. "But I met May at the castle, and she showed me how to turn into a ghost wolf. I can do it right now! I remember, and no one else knowed how to show me, so it had to be her. May is a Tauren."

Tyrande cried harder. "Oh, I understand about your lost mother, I feel so exceptionally what you do, with my power. We may never know her truly, but I will do all that I can to support you and love, you, my Belorim. Won't you at least let me try and love you?"

Even at that age, Belorim was the sort of young gentleman to be affected by the suffering of another person, especially a lady. He hugged Tyrande back.

Illidan and Lady Vashj smiled at one another. "Of course, old friend, Coilfang Reservoir will be returned to you, as a sign of our thanks. Tyrande has wanted a child for so long, and I was missing my Belorim after he went out in the storm."

Tyrande, in turn, forgave Vashj's crimes against the Night Elves after so many thousands of years. Vashj was now a free woman with power again.

"High Priestess, I also hope that you can forgive any bad feeling between us, regarding Malfurion. If only I could enter into hisss life without causing any heartbreak whatever…" and she faked very good tears.

Tyrande hugged Vashj next. "Because he and I were not happy, does not mean that you two cannot be."

Belorim ended that reunion glaring up at Illidan. This is the man who had made him cry while at Tempest Keep, who he remembered took him from his real father's arms once, and did not want to give him back. Who had sneaked into the room when they weren't looking and killed Korgy, the fel-dog.

"Please… Miss Tyrande, I don't belong here. I want to go back to Silvermoon and see my mom. And my dad will be worried, please. _Please_."

"Well, I agree that the Black Temple isn't all that it could be. I'd have raised you in Darnassus instead, but since Malfurion and I fought over it… neither of us are allowed back in. It is sacred ground for only the cooperative druids and priests…" her eyes wandered.

To Illidan, Belorim refused to cry. "You're big, but I'm not afraid of you."

"I am your father, why would you be?"

The boy squeezed his eyes shut. "The Spirits will protect me, and the elements will teach me to be strong."

Tyrande kissed Belorim's forehead. "Such faith! Oh, little one, don't worry. I will love you as much as your father ever has. Now, how would you like some cookies?" and took him away.

"Vashj…" Illidan grinned. "I am sure that, by the time Tyrande and I are back and settled in our bed tonight, and celebrating… you will have an opportunity to give Malfurion my regards."

She curtsied. "I will convey them, of course, in the way that only a Liberator gone years from her lover can."

It was tempting to say far more. They'd pulled off so much… but Tyrande was waiting. Illidan snapped out his wings, then turned and strutted back to his new family. Vashj blew Belorim a kiss, and waved as they dragged him.

"Good bye, my little meal ticket."

_Not long after reading, Blaize overheard Celestia making plans to sneak and have tea with Novia at the end of the month. He stole paper into the sitting room and wrote to his friend too, why not?_

_Dannox,_

_Something exceptional occurred—are you psychic as well as sick in the head? How did you ever guess what would take place between Celestia and I? I admit now, that is why I've been elusive all this month. I got to reading all about her first impressions of us being together, and then the Missus must have sensed my better mood, she began to adore me, prefer me… I feel like an idiot. It was there between us all along. _

_But it won't do either to write it all down here, as if we're passing notes in class while Novia and Celestia aren't watching. Let's meet while the school-marms have dinner tomorrow night. She must know by now that I won't stay in like some tamed thing while she breaks our pact and goes out with a friend. Come, you pick the place, and I can promise all kinds of good news._

_Regards,_

_General Nathaniel Blaize Sunstrider_

Dannox was very amused to see the hated last name attached to all Blaize's other titles, finally.

_General Sunstrider,_

_You are most welcome, of course, to join me at Cantrips down below the city. Despite what the self-possessed Kirin Tor magicians would have you believe, please do bring your own lantern because their efforts at sprucing up the sewer are as shoddy as ever._

_-Dannox the miscreant._

That night, Blaize almost missed Dannox at Cantrips because he didn't expect to see him in such colorful company. His party took up nearly the entire bar, and so many tables had been pushed together to accommodate them. There was a pirate-woman, several rogues, a Goblin, a Dwarf woman juggling frothy beer steins, and what Blaize finally felt comfortable asserting was an old Worgen wearing nothing but his gray fur, when he got close enough.

Dannox waved, "General!" One of the other rogues wrestled a comrade in black nearest Dannox out of that seat. The third was a woman in mask. She laughed and dragged the emptied chair out for him. Though, Blaize realized before too long that he was afraid to sit down.

Dannox clamped a hand on his friend's shoulder and forced him down. "Now, everyone, get your money ready. Alright, General—"

The Goblin whined, "It ain't fair if you goad him into it, let him introduce himself."

Dannox had a sip of beer from the Dwarf on the other side of him—she tipped it just right into his mouth, and then the Night Elf man urged Blaize to get on with it. At first, it made no sense whatsoever…

"I am General Nathaniel Blaize Sunstrider." He nodded with gentility.

Laughter erupted, then wild whistles. They exclaimed joy at the miracle unfolding in front of their eyes, when Dannox reached into his pocket and tossed gold—it was always Novia's gold—across the table to several of the noisiest people.

"Sorry, General, I really didn't think you'd make the same slip twice. Congratulations on finally falling in love with your own wife."

The Dwarf woman gave Dannox another sip from her stein. "He didn't think it was possible, not really. But we all said, 'awww, Dannox, have a heart. He might actually like you enough to take your advice, lad.'" And she gave over to rapid-fire giggling.

Blaize had no idea what to say after that. The pirate woman lifted her eyepatch and revealed a glass eyeball done over in precious stones, then snapped it back down again. Blaize almost spat out the ale now offered to him.

The Goblin started up a cigar. "But that's our Dannox for you, he's hard to love. Which is 'xactly why Miss Lady Novia or whomever doesn't know about us. We have trouble enough from him!"

"HAHAHAHA!" all around the table.

There was no organization to the evening whatsoever. The pirate woman instantly settled back into one of her stories. Ten years ago, on a wild, stormy day, a great cry came up out of the Maelstrom. That was _near_ where they were sailing, if they weren't in it. No one was stupid enough to take a ship right over Naga waters. Then it all went silent, sky crystal blue once more, and these serpent creatures started flopping up on deck. Laughing the water up out of their lungs and screaming joy. The boat was weighted down, they caught so many crocodilian fish—but then they all grew legs and started walking around. Naked men and women everywhere, hugging, dancing, running up and down the dry deck, shouting ancient Elven languages.

And then, as a drunken pirate was prone to do, her story dwindled to little more than an orgy.

A rogue stopped her from going too far with it. "But all the same, that's one of the pleasanter stories I ever heard told, of The Curse being lifted. Most of the rest involve people being run over in seaside towns by deranged, hungry mobs, clothes getting stolen. And then some places didn't get the happy sorts of Naga, and entire harbors got burned down."

One Human sighed, "You should have seen Stormwind Harbor. It was more of the second scenario. As if we could have helped them, all on our own, to reverse it. You know, for a long time, the Naga were looking for someone to blame. They refused to believe Lady Vashj had done it. Well, strong-armed Azshara into doing it, that is."

The pirate woman stuck out her tongue at Blaize, and he stopped making eye contact with her. "All those angry sorts cleared out after a while though." She reflected. "Right around the time Vashj took over Coilfang again, and Tyrande went back to the Black Temple. What was settled was settled, and hey, I'm not complainin'. A Naga sailor who is grand to look at while we're docked, and deadly as a shark when we've got to dive and get to a stash of treasure first, at the very bottom of the sea… he's alright by me. He's alright by me! He's just fine by me! Walkin' round then swimmin' down the front o'my shirt, he's just fine by me!"

And they all started singing. Blaize looked at Dannox for a long time. No, Lady Novia could not know just how truly strange he was. Then he looked down at the far end of the table, where the Worgen with a white bandage tied around his furry head played an illegal Darkmoon Faire card game with the extra rogue, and the Goblin suddenly got up to slip away into the darkness between two houses sitting up out of the sewer water on stilts. Blaize just barely heard some shady deal being made.

Then Dannox shouted, "Let's go watch some duels, yes?"

They all piled on, hugging him and paraded out of the bar, with their drinks.

Blaize counted ten friends altogether, though that number kept changing. People were walking in and out all the time, to meet friends, or slink away from a scratched up face that looked a lot like one of the slinkers' sheathed weapons. The finer instincts of the old General made him wish he'd brought a rapier or dagger; but for some reason when he'd written that letter, he'd imagined a sun-bleached café like he and Dannox were always frequenting. Or, at least, he'd supposed that the sewer would have some charming, out of the way… No, a bistro made absolutely no sense here. Blaize had been around the United Elven Socialites for far too long.

The first fight was between a Human priest, and then a human shadow priest. Dannox and all his friends, sitting on rooftops, stairs, or swinging their legs from the last porch-level of the arena masters' quarters shouted displeasure. But there was a twist to the long fight: Dannox stealthed up close in his cat form—Blaize was afraid his friend had skipped out on him at first, in this strange place—then suddenly the tree-man came into view, tossing annoying green healing spells on the holy priest, while the Human swathed in shadow magic was smote to death.

Everyone screamed wild with it. One of the ninjas shouted that he wanted to finally duel a pirate, but that died back down. Then, out of the awkward pause, one of the rogues dashed out into the arena like a madwoman and slid to a stop on the watery floor to challenge Dannox. He went back to a cat and could be seen shaking his head in a jovial, mewing 'No' before he completely disappeared. Blaize was challenged next, he gladly made the excuse of having no weapon, and finally the rogue reached into a leather satchel across her back and pulled out a long, metal claw. She fixed it on her hand. It worked like a brace that went around her wrist on either side. Her fist held tight to a gold beam that crossed the middle. The Goblin returned and let out a low whistle when he saw her wind the thing up. Tiny gold gears got the blades slicing and whirring around in deadly circles on their own.

"If it was Goblin engineering, I woulda' dived beneath the house by now!"

Blaize was horrified. "Is it Gnomish?"

The Worgen man dropped a very good hand of cards from where Blaize and Dannox could both see below, on the last level. The wolf creature was transfixed by the strange weapon and drifted toward it, flexing his own needle claws.

"April, I would have never suspected you, to be one of them."

"Splint, you know best what the green-Naga suffer in this world. Is Master Slicer really all that misguided—"

Blaize was going 'huh?!' when suddenly, the Worgen named Splint whistled, and four green Naga slithered out of sewer pipes, and scared him into grabbing Dannox.

"Oh, don't worry. That's just Leo, Mikey, Don, and Raph over there in the red headband. They're ninjas."

"They're WHAT?!"

"Teenagers, sure, but also mutated green Naga ninjas. Haven't you heard the stories of them saving people who get lost in these sewers? Though, I'll hold you back if you really want me to, handsome."

Blaize moved across the porch, and composed himself.

The rogue named April brandished her claw-weapon and backed away. Each of the Naga produced a katana, staff, nunchucks, and then a set of blades in the webbed hands of the last one. They announced that they would tolerate no servants of Master Slicer in their sewers, or any other hunter of those who willingly accepted demon magic into their veins. Whether it was Azshara's Curse that made true Naga like them hide in the sewers of Dalaran, or the lure of the Demon magic which caused some Fel Elves to grow horns, though they'd reformed themselves after the Burning Legion's collapse.

The battle was spectacular, with lots of 'tauren-a-bungas!' and 'dude's' thrown around. Then, it was over. Dannox's little group was stunned to silence when, at last, four green Naga slithered away or tucked in muscular tails then cartwheeled back into the shadows. The furry gray Worgen, named Splint, reached out for his cane, was tossed it, and then hobbled away from the dueling ground. Green Naga were automatically outlaws, in any city.

April was not dead. But the weapon given to her by this Master Slicer person had been bashed into about a thousand places. The Goblin offered to fix it for her.

"Oh, but Chao'thas will never accept me back. He will know it isn't his handiwork any longer." She mourned.

It was all done in whispers, but Blaize was still horrified. Moreso than before.

"Uh, let's all go back to Cantrips and get drunk, yes?" Dannox now shouted. A slimmer party than before marched back down the large pipeline and to the bar.

Somewhere, among stories of the teenaged mutant ninja Naga, Splint, claw weapons and demon-magic hunters, Dannox's latest exploits with Shine the opera singer, and drawn out confessions of his wife's fabled beauty—for Blaize, at this stage of his affection for her, had to be so smashed in order to share what he wanted so badly to himself—the General got very, very, very drunk.

They inevitably asked him about Saturna Whiteblade, and how did it feel to punch Kael'thas like so many elves wanted to these days, and that led to a firestorm of Blaize swearing and throwing chairs through other groups of customers. Dan laughed nervously, pinned Blaize's arms together from behind and pulled him off his feet, like before. Then, he got them out of there.

"General, oh General," Dannox lumbered through the night streets of Dalaran with one of Blaize's arms around his shoulders, "When will you ever learn that you're being baited? That pirate woman wanted to fight you all night long. Well, at least she fought one of the ninjas at the bar finally, and we had an answer to that old debate at last."

"Let'm come. I sheen more daysh… Celeshtia. Dinner was over ages ago, she's gonna be sho mad, Dannox!"

"I know, I know. Here, why don't you come home with me, and you'll sober up there." But Dannox did not sound conciliatory at all. As they turned onto the well-lit streets of Zangar Avenue, and up the stairs of Novia's well-appointed home, his dark face gained a hard edge to it. For the first time since Blaize had ever known him, the jolly Night Elf truly frowned.

"Shomethin's wrong."

"No matter what happens next, General, I want you to know that… it isn't me, who's wrong."

The door opened for them, Dannox dragged Blaize up the stairs and into a bedroom, then heaved his friend onto the bed. He tied Blaize's wrists to the bedposts, pulled off his shoes, and searched him, delved into every breast pocket or backpocket. Blaize drowsed into clarity when Dannox crawled off of him and backed to the doorway. "He's clean."

The door creaked open. A woman walked in wearing pants and a mask with eyes painted on. The eyes were stylized, dreamy, and in the ancient elven style. Blaize struggled to remember where he'd seen them before. Someplace… evil. From a time in his past…

She slapped a riding crop into the open palm of her hand, but then swore at how much she'd hurt it.

This was the part where Dan might have laughed. He never did. "Come on, Novia, he's scared enough already."

She turned on him and raised the crop over her head. "You be quiet. Oh, General… I hope you don't mind dropping in suddenly. You see, my Mistress had some questions for you, and they could not have been answered in any regular way. And so, you've had an evening to beat all evenings, nothing that anyone who cares about you or who wouldn't spit on you would ever believe. Now, tell me, what do you know about Queen Saturna's coming here at month's end!"

Blaize felt sluggish. All he wanted to do was to answer and then get to sleep. And he kept asking where his friend Dannox was.

"I'm right here, Nathaniel, I swear."

Novia pried even deeper when she didn't get the answers she wanted. She slapped and pricked his arms, his legs, made Dannox turn him over too. There were no useful results, however. Finally, she was forced to make her terrible point.

"Does she know about the pact my Lady Vashj made with Kael'thas ten years ago, or not, in exchange for the boy!"

Blaize cried that he had no idea what she was talking about. He and Celestia had been elusive for the past month in order to remain in good standing for whenever Queen Saturna arrived, that was all. It had nothing to do with offending their friends, it had nothing to do with anything at all, except for survival. Novia pressed further, as to why Celestia had been so terse at their dinner earlier that evening? Blaize shouted that he loved his wife and they had no secrets! Not between themselves, and no secrets from anyone else. Wasn't their banishment terrible enough already, without more such schemes! This, he repeated, it seemed forever, before Dannox kissed Novia and made her stop. Then, they both left the room.

The next morning, Blaize woke up feeling terrible. The curtains had been shut tight. He felt his wrists. No, they were perfectly healed. "Then why does everything else sting so bad…"

Dannox lay in bed next to him, watching every move. His smile was unsure. "At the time… you told me that you liked it."

They were both fully undressed. Blaize froze.

Dannox kept going, he sounded nervous. "I was afraid this would happen. Though… though my feelings aren't exactly hurt. You said that you weren't sure. You just wanted to try it with me, and so here we are." Dannox reached for him and kissed him.

Blaize startled out of the bed and crashed to the floor.

"Stay away from me. You stay away from me. I've never loved men in my life, what in the _hell _did you do!"

"We went out and ran into some of my friends. You got very drunk and confessed this big secret to me: that you were, in fact, curious about us after that steak we shared at the tavern. And I care for you, Blaize, I wasn't going to let you continue suffering, when you aren't happy in your marriage. So I brought you here, and I let you try me on. It is really that simple. I'm hurt you won't see it in the same way. I am your friend, Nathaniel. Unlesss… unless the ugly truth about your relationship with Celestia, and then your good news about us being together, is not what you meant, in your letter."

"No, that's not what happened." Blaize grasped his pounding forehead. "We got here… there was a woman."

"Yes, at first. Because you were afraid. And then I told her to go. We tried it again, alone."

"No, we did not! She was yelling at me, something about Saturna?"

Dannox asserted that it was Blaize whining about Saturna until he calmed down enough to enjoy it like a man. And it was very manly, nothing to be ashamed of. Though, Dannox was willing to wait and then they could both tell Celestia when Blaize was ready.

"Like lightning in Netherstorm! You're not telling my wife anything, you're not to go near her!"

"Dammit, you called for me last night, you begged me to stay near you, don't you remember, Blaize? Do you really think I'm this sexual fiend with no heart? I wouldn't do this to a close friend without a real reason. I would not violate that trust."

"I do… remember that part." Blaize apologized, he didn't know what else to do when Dannox never sounded more distressed before. Something was definitely wrong, definitely twisted up and pulled apart and just wicked. He snatched up all his clothes and left the house.

Novia sneaked in on Dannox, while he was watching Blaize through the window. The old General was barely composed, marching hastily down the street.

"You did well, my love."

Dannox flexed his fingers into a fist, watched the knuckles bulge. "Of course I did. There is no way in this life or the next, that I would ever let you endanger my family. Now, will you forget about Filthy, Rach and our daughters?"

She lifted her chin. "I can't. Not unless you forget all that I said about Vashj, Saturna and Kael'thas. Oh, Big Dan, don't feel so bad. You two looked good together, I saw through the keyhole. I bet he'll come around after a while, out of guilt, and then you can have one of your friends as a true lover for real. Perhaps, for the first time in your life."

She slapped him first, before Dannox could shout at her.

"You're still free to take it up with your one-legged opera whore. There's no reason for you to hate me, when, considering all the sanctuary I've given you—you convict, you lying friend to what's left of the Burning Legion! I'm still being so generous…" Novia gathered up her skirts and left. Dannox lay back down and felt sure he was the worst person in the entire world.


	12. Kael'thas' Big Arse Revenge Plan, PartI

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Twelve: Oh No Sorn di'nt! SNAP! **

**(Kael'thas' Great Big Ass Revenge Plan, Part I)**

_Ten years ago (I know, I know, yet again)…_

Pyorin the Tank walked out onto the beach, and shaded his eyes against intense red Thalassian sunset. Three ships, their sails full, challenged this dashing horizon. His King Kael'thas was leaving for Northrend, on one of them.

"Speaking of cheating…"

Sunthraze snapped, "Saturna is _not_ about to cheat on Kael'thas with Prince Arthas. She's not that silly, Pyorin! Beyond that being a repulsive idea."

Daphne sighed, "But yet, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a fangirl in possession of a Prince will soon be in want of more Princes."

The other Knights of the Blood Nexus, including Lady Liadrin stared at her. Sorn knew the reference, and began laughing, despite grim circumstances.

She tried again, "Classical literature leaves us with another guide in circumstances such as these, I mean. Sometimes… villains turn out not to be what we first suspected, and reap all the rewards. And then our little fangirl scout might emerge unhurt. Let's all take heart and have hope, especially when--"

Tempest smoked, "That Mr. Darcy was sooo hot."

Liadrin snapped at them all to be quiet. And, for gods' sakes, to just let this Jane Austen business go, when no one else cared.

_Pfft! I care._

Anyways, the Bloodknights never listened. Ever. So they began to wonder aloud why in the world Kael'thas took along Fennore and Mavia, but not the remainder of their group? Weren't they all capable? Hadn't Pyorin and Sunthraze proven themselves at the Black Temple too? Then, Daphne and Tempestraven joined while in Netherstorm, and Kael'thas could not have got back home without the ladies, certainly. Especially considering his, erm, lonely status at the time.

Liadrin decided to turn it into an exercise, as they all began the trek back through Sunstrider Isle and home to the castle. If there was an odd, too quiet quality to the countryside, none of them would have noticed it. Advisor Sorn kept checking back over all their shoulders, though. Liadrin prompted, innocent of his wandering eyes: Had Kael'thas granted the opportunity, how would each of her Bloodknights have set about rescuing Queen Saturna?

Pyorin was swinging Daphne's hand back and forth between them. "I'd appeal to Saturna's sense as a Bloodknight, and the founder of the Nexus, Liadrin… and if that failed, I'd remind her that, technically, Arthas is no longer the Prince of Lordaeron."

Daphne squealed, "Oh, don't do that! He murdered his father, remember? Technically, Arthas is a Human King, and Saturna would pick up on that. If it were me, I'd remind her of her son, or how lonely Kael'thas is without her, or… maybe make an extra trip to Dalaran for an enchanted net that can't be cut with steel nor spell, to throw up over her head and drag the woman out."

Tempest laughed so loudly that she was challenged to do any better. "Me? Well, I'm sure I would have turned the Whiteblade flat and knocked her upside the head with it. We all know there's no reasoning with Saturna when it comes to these things."

Liadrin sniped, "But yet, you managed to convince her to go running off across Outland to save Kael'thas after drinking jell-O shots from the belly button of an ogre. I will NEVER forget that you risked Mother Whiteblade's life, all because of a stunt like that. If I had but known it was Saturna's true reason for suggesting we save him--"

Sunthraze whistled hard, and they continued walking in silence. Seven long shadows of Bloodknights sliced the meager amber bridge back to the mainland. "Look, whatever we might have done doesn't matter. Saturna isn't about to cheat on Kael'thas. If she wasn't forced, as the evidence in the room suggested, then she clearly went with Prince Arthas for her own reasons. Maybe… maybe Arthas made a deal with her, that we shouldn't interfere with, like what Daphne said."

Daphne reminded Sunthraze that she had been joking not long ago. It was twice as bad, that no one got her humor then, and that it also served to inspire strange results in her friends as a result.

Sorn was finally past his limit, however. He demanded Sunthraze make sense and right away. "Well, Sorn, what if it's something really super amazing, like, as a Death God, Arthas has the power to change the future, and this is Saturna's one chance to give him her opinion of how it should be?"

"But why would Arthas ever, _ever_ consult one of his enemies on the subject?"

"Becaaaaause… he wants to screw with Kael'thas? Deep down, we all do, I think."

Agreeable mumbling all around. Before they got to the city gates, though, Sorn turned around in the road. "Incompetent. I-N-C-O-M-P-E-T-E-N-T, in case the very people I'm describing here have trouble grasping exactly the word I mean, the concept I'm trying to convey, stab through your ears and fix, tight, in those vapid, or else cloth-filled, moth-filled skulls of yours."

"Sorn! I've never seen you blow up at anyone like this, and they don't deserve it, stop immediately."

"No, Liadrin, I shall not. If you must, then cover your ears, m'lady. Do you four think that you are friends with Kael'thas and myself, that he owes you some kind of special treatment, after you performed so poorly these last five years? That he or I would allow ourselves to be truly allied with young people as dangerous as you all are, because you do not think before you swing a sword, and clearly not before you speak, either. It's only the ever-flowing mercy of this once Sister Liadrin which has kept me respectfully silent till now, about there being different sides in this effort, and that you Bloodknights aren't standing anywhere near Kael'thas and I. That has restrained my anger, and the wishes of my Master, the King, for you all to be used raw, and ill--even if against your own selves--until his royal will be done, but FIE! Fie, I say, on you, and you, and you, and…"

Their faces flushed. Liadrin grasped a nearby wall, overwhelmed. Sorn spat as he spoke, pointed in each of their faces, then tore off his round black cap, and smashed it beneath his foot.

"And of _course_ the Queen of all this insolence would get snookered into running off with the greatest enemy to this pristine people since Queen Azshara, Vashj and their ilk! I'm glad my Master's got full control over her at long last, and soon you will be too. I don't know how Arthas got through the unmaking spell, but I promise it won't be long before everything, is finally _finally _the way the Sunstriders wanted it be around here! That I will be the very agent of this deliverance is all which has ever comforted me those long nights in Outland, especially of late. Thank goodness he finally realized that if success will be born at all, it cannot be out of the pitiful ashes right now before my eyes. THANK THE GODS."

And then Sorn left, with Liadrin going swiftly after him.

The Bloodknights were left blinking and beside themselves. Well, Sunthraze managed a 'who says _fie _anymore?', but after that they were practically mired in disquiet.

_The next day…_

"They are all very upset at you."

"I don't care, I won't take it back, Liadrin." Sorn, for once, was seen putting away papers and cleaning his desk of work.

"Oh, fine then, I don't care that they're upset, either. But, Sorn, I am. You have hurt me, and upset me. How can you say such things when bless them, and I mean, Sun really bless them, but I'm getting them to try their best. Doesn't it count for something that their shotty efforts at salvation eventually got Kael'thas home?"

He paused with fingers tapping nervously on the polished desk. "In that case, then I do apologize. I am intensely sorry that I may have startled you, Liadrin. But how can you give away your own honor like that? I was tired of seeing them cause such suffering."

She was confused, and when Sorn could have explained, he stammered. "…It's all your success, is what I mean. Kael'thas could have done it without them, but he could not have returned from Netherstorm without _you_."

"Since when has my honor concerned you? Let's get back to that, Sorn. I am the lone defender of myself and no one else has the right to speak for me. It has always been that way."

"Since Anasterian, yes, I remember."

Liadrin pushed around the desk to stop him shelving something else. "What do you mean by that? I only told one person… I had thought."

He laughed bitterly. So, she did not remember their one special conversation many years ago? "But yet, you remember everything you ever said to Blaize, when you were sleeping with him, and every cruel thing Anasterian did to you. Neither man cared, but you were glad to throw yourself at them, go on saving the unwilling and the unworthy--"

Liadrin raised her hand to slap him, then he stopped. She curled fingers closed, and dropped her hand.

"I'm sorry, Lia."

She barged past, flipped through the remainder of what was on his desk, and then helped to put it away. Sorn was afraid to stop her. The woman had strange energy. Who would fly into an angry fit of helping someone else? But he found it easiest in this moment to aid her, she would become even more upset if, before long, he announced that she was doing it all wrong, and so they worked together to clear his whole office. Conversation found its way back to them, by way of utility as he showed her where things went, and then, at last, tender friendship returned.

"I may have also… said things regarding Saturna that were vastly inappropriate."

"As vast as the Great Sea." she smiled with discomfort, and handed him an empty crate that he began filling with trinkets left on the desk. "But that doesn't matter anymore. I understand your being upset. What is wrong with Kael'thas, banishing his own General, and then alienating the one loyal and capable servant he ever had? You should have gone with him to Northrend too, I feel your frustration. I'm crushed, but I do get it. I don't judge you Sorn."

"Excuse me? Liadrin, I'm not leaving my post. Is that what you thought, that I was quitting as Chief Advisor to the House of Sunstrider? Ha, I'm in fact honored that Kael'thas left everything in Silvermoon to me."

She broke into laughter.

"Pretty, pretty, joy. Yours always was. No, I am just getting ready for the next phase of His Majesty's plan." Sorn slowed down his working. Suddenly, he was confiding everything.

"And those plans involve Magnus, don't they? I was going to get it out of you eventually, on the street, or during your carriage ride away from the Sunspire, and the palace spies… but right now does very well too."

"The big revenge plan… I have an oath as well, you know."

But that was no good, when Liadrin reminded Sorn that Magnus the Unmaker, as a member of the Blood Nexus belonged solely to her alone. And in that case, what in the world was Kael'thas doing, ordering that man around? What did Magnus or his magic have to do with Saturna's present state? Liadrin leaned both hands on either edge of the wooden crate and grinned while he weakened.

"This is unfair. You know that you have an affect on me." Sorn observed.

She shied away. "I was positively innocent of it till now…"

"No, I'm only sad that you don't do it more often… erm, Magnus. The eighth Bloodknight, the rogue of your group. He doesn't know it's Kael'thas he's working for. I really just love this plan, Liadrin… Kael'thas figured The Unmaker's price."

"That must be revenge on my Nexites, which I cannot allow under any circumstance."

"But Magnus is an artist, first and foremost. He thinks that Kael'thas is some wealthy patron, from the old landed gentry, eager to fund his life's work--a screen-play or some such--money for costumes, the venue, advertising the show, casting the best of the best for every single role, whatever he wants. All Magnus has to do in exchange is just… up and topple the present government for this man whom Magnus believes is a closet anti-monarchist. Magnus hates Kael'thas anyways, and your order, so he was eager to go along with a plot to change command of the city."

"While Kael'thas himself was sitting on the throne?!"

"No, we were going to go prison for a time, but then come roaring back once certain things about his past in Outland--due to come out, mind you, due to be leaked eventually--once the blame passed to the dummy Magnus let sit on that throne, then Kael'thas could safely re-take power. Recently, Kael'thas ammended that we might also do away with Thrall's caretaker government claptrap in the process, why not? I met with that family of Tauren shamans not long ago. A servant of Ysera and a Farseer, loyal to a fault the lot of them… Kael'thas can't woo people like that, so determined not to enjoy bribery or anything else. I agree that, in the end, only Blood Elves understand what Blood Elves need. Whatever it takes to restore Dath'remar's vision for Quel'thalas."

The revelation did not go over well. Liadrin shouted for guards, for the Nexites, anyone. Sorn grasped her firmly by the arm, and walked her out of his office and through the palace. The gilded hallways and the beautifully appointed rooms were all cleared out, though, and her echoes escaped into nothing.

Liadrin panicked. "How did you do that? Make all the people disappear…" she found her voice had a strange enchanted quality to it. It reverberated and fluttered, and as they moved, they blurred. Sorn gained a fiendish smile. The deep blue of his robes flickered then lashed everywhere in wild threads of electrified cobalt. They were both as light and energetic in that long moment, as if they were passing through a timeless painting.

"No, Lia, it is we who are disappearing. My very own blink spell." he brought her so close before they came out of it, that the natural heat between them actually sparked.

The world was again still, and at last, they matched it. All the guards and their heavy shields in the throne room had run out onto the red carpeted bridge. From what they could scant see of the city beyond, soldiers were every where. Soldiers in red and gold, but pushing in, into the palace.

"Sorn! What has Kael'thas done?"

"Shh. I could have left you to scramble with the others but suddenly I was inspired, by our alchemy." he helped her to take fast strides across white marble to the royal seat, at the center of the grand room.

"What are you doing to us? Magnus has corrupted both you and Kael'thas, what could you two have been thinking, tangling with that man? Unhand me, before I--"

"You may not have noticed, no one ever does notice Sorn, but I tend to be the only other Bloodmage in existence, Lia. So, Kael'thas and I are certainly the ones firmly in control of events. Not only does using the dark power make me a little headstrong in moments like these, and alongside someone so lovely, but it also empowers me to insist, dear lady, that if you try to get away from me in this moment, you will find that quite impossible. I am, by myself, stronger than you or anyone else in the Blood Nexus."

Liadrin's breath caught in her throat. "You…?"

"Kael'thas does find ways to reward me. I was never doing any of this for my health, love. Didn't you at least give me that much credit? Now," and he said so more gently than she ever thought he could go, new thrilling extreme against all this danger, "stand here, exactly where General Blaize and Queen Celestia will find you when they come crashing in. Magnus will, let's say, use his skills and 'convince' them to put the two of us someplace safe."

"Celestia?! No, _no _you don't understand. She's a horrible woman, a hellion, a BEAST! Sorn, stop it. This is a mistake, letting them back into the city so easily. Please, I beg you, do what you can to prevent it, before it's too late… I can't face that woman again, she disgraced me. She singlehandedly toppled this kingdom, Sorn. What have you and Kael'thas done?!"

He repeated some rote message about how warlocks needed to cross the line into oblivion, in order to seize more power when it was needed. He, too, was capable of coming back across the brink when it was necessary. Why didn't she believe in him?

And, thus, Queen Celestia entered the Sunspire, for the first time in five long years. As Blaize pointed with sword, handsome flare of red hair flying over his shoulder, and Sunfury soldiers cheering as they secured the area, so glad were they, to do exactly as Blaize, General Nathaniel Blaize directed, and no one else--not a soul saw how Celestia sauntered in, bouncing where it counted, and adjusting a silly white boa she'd worn exactly for the occasion, to make light of their suffering--this great big woman made Bloodknight Matriarch Liadrin fall apart, to tears.

"Oh look, my handsome husband." said she, and Blaize's evil smile coupled with hers, especially when it turned to kiss that woman's glowing cheek in the middle of battle, was too much. Celestia wore a gold breastplate and ceremonial helmet complete with a comb of white Hawkstrider feathers. If any enemy came at her, a flickering magic shield and the incredible onslaught of the entire army prevented the Queen from being hurt. "It's the whore who ravaged Anasterian--rest his soul--and then came back, for the poor man's son. Excuse me, did no one else here know that the virtuous Matriarch was so hungry a slut? My, I suppose I might have promised to keep it a secret, once upon a time ago… but no more, little Liadrin. I don't owe Anasterian or you anything anymore."

Tempest, Daphne, Pyorin and Sunthraze were dragged in, shackled. It wasn't hard to imagine them failing to salvage the situation, yet again. Already, the Sunfury were shouting hail to the new King and Queen of Quel'thalas. Celestia withdrew their royal contract from her cloak and tapped it happily beneath her round chin. Liadrin breathed still harder over clenched teeth, when she recognized the very royal seals she'd helped to press into the document. But at the time, she thought the relief of control over military and country might free Kael'thas' spirit. Blaize was not remorseful for taking advantage of Kael'thas' distress when at last their worked over legal document was brought before him, and so many ammendments added to suit the General's purposes alone. And then, to have retrieved it from her own possession, and wait to use it until precisely now? Vicious, vicious traitor. Blaize dropped his sword in dramatic fashion--as if it were a holy war finally done--and got down on both knees, to kiss sacred ground.

"Celestia, honey. I think I'm home."

"Of course you are, dear. Now, get up off _my_ clean floor."

Magnus arrived last and kicked the shins of every last one of his Nexite brothers and sisters.

_That triumphant moment was what Blaize remembered when he arrived home, this morning…_

He feared that, when he opened the door to his small apartment with Celestia in Dalaran, it would be the very end of all the mischief they'd got into together, after all these years.

General Nathaniel Blaize came home to a beautiful cooked breakfast and actual, real, orange-oranges, not green or yellow ones, and they were piled up in an elegant pyramid at the center of their flimsy dining table. An embroidered white table cloth lay beneath all that and hid the crooked table-legs.

"Tah-dum! Welcome back, husband. I see that you had a fine night with Mister Dannox. What a fine specimen, what a fine, funny fellow. _Fine_. I take back all that I ever said about him. You finally look worn out, for once. I'm glad you sneaked out, we both needed a bit of celebration, didn't we? Good for you. Happy month's-end! Saturna Sunstrider and freedom are but a breath-away."

Blaize stumbled into his chair. Celestia was seated across from him and pressed fingers together beneath her round chin. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"You're not even going to ask how I spent my night?"

Celestia picked up her fork and announced that she trusted him completely. They'd made good on their vows many times in the last month.

"And that means…?"

"Blaize, I'm surprised at you!" she giggled, and reached over to take his hand. "We are lovers now. You whispered as much to me many times in the dead of night, and I believed you. I accept your late offer of sincere marriage. All the ugliness and failed schemes, I assure you this time, are behind us."

Blaize had said such things to her, in fact. It was sometime after enjoying the story of how they met, and before recalling the awful tale of how they'd been de-throned. Because, at that time--it seemed a lifetime ago since last night and all the pirates and the Teenaged Mutant Ninja green Naga… ugh. Being with Celestia was easy, simply easy, and just fun. They would scheme in Dalaran, but they couldn't get far. And in the end, they would just laugh. Two vain peas sharing one pod. No, the poor weren't happy because they were stupid and didn't know better. They were excessively rich. They had all that mattered, already. Good, round wives with common sense.

"No, something is wrong. I assumed it was a hangover, but it isn't. Is it?"

Blaize exhaled through his nose. What had Dannox done to him? It was unthinkable, no, no, no, it was entirely possible. At this point, it was only a question of whether or not he wanted to lose his wife along with his honor as an honest man.

"I had an affair, last night. With a woman. Dannox and I went down to Cantrips…" he couldn't finish.

Celestia crunched through toast, and ended baring teeth. While she finished her mouthful, cheeks bulging, crumbs getting licked from her mouth, the woman looked more and more angry. Finally, she dropped the gold bread and covered her face.

"You son of a bitch."

"I'm sorry."

She was quiet for a long time. Blaize was ashamed to have started his meal, because there was in fact a hangover underlying all of it, when Celestia was again able to speak. "I finally believed that you were tired of having women so perfectly small, completely emotional and dependent on you, financially bereft, insolent--"

"Saturna was never all that--"

"I AM NOT SATURNA WHITEBLADE!" Celestia began to cry. "I am a grown woman with sense. I have essentially taken you into my life, shown compassion, pushed so hard for us. Kael'thas wanted to put you in stocks, or cut off your head, but I convinced him not to, did you know that? Or, had you not read that far?"

Blaize snatched the napkin folded into his shirt collar and threw it onto his plate, done. "You knew I was reading your diary! But worse, I thought our being stuck together in this city was some sick joke of his? So, I'm here at your disposal? This is some game you've been playing with me these last ten years? And Kael'thas has been laughing his ass off, at how you're actually my jailor. Celestia, I thought you had some pride about you."

"Don't you sneer at me, you con artist--"

"I am forthright at all times!"

"_Emotional _con-artist, then. You look good and speak well, and so manage to convince yourself that you've got noble intentions behind everything, but truly, Nathaniel, you act like a fiend. Remember, that when we met, I told you what your game was and also, that I was no fool. I'd been all through that before, with Anasterian."

"I am not Anasterian, either, Celestia."

"No, a king you are not."

Stalemate.

"I'm going to…" not to see Dannox, "I'm going for a walk."

She spoke again when he got to the door. "Nathaniel, when you come back to this house, you will find it changed. My diary will be properly shut up, this banquet will be--out on the street for the Gnomes to gobble up! I will be a cold hearted woman again intent on surviving only, and using you completely. Thank me later, for giving you the one courtesy you never allowed." she riveted glare on him, "…sincerity."

He wondered, briefly, if it meant he should not leave, and stay to comfort her. But Blaize could promise no such resolution between them. He was too angry at Dannox, Novia, unforgiving Celestia and then himself for getting so drunk, everyone!

"You have an hour to work that miracle, and go back thirty years… though you won't at all look it."

She cried, and Blaize could hear it through the door. He hated himself for going so far and being so petty. She was mean, but because she was a predator--a fighter, like himself. And he loved every inch of her, in fact, wanted more of her. There wasn't enough of Celestia in his bed or aligned with his menacing thoughts. She deserved to be dressed head to toe in fiendish garb, the stately edge of vogue like he knew she wanted, threaten every other woman as she walked down the street in her new beauty, and have someone younger and sharp on her arm, as he was. It was like giving a tigress back her teeth and stripes, and needing to hear her roar.

He hoped she recovered. If Celestia did not, then he might not be able to forgive himself, for breaking two women in his life.

Blaize went to the mens' outfitters, even wandered as far as the rose-windowed dress shop, where he and Dannox had fought. That was where he learned what his friend really was about. Celestia laughed back then, adored Blaize for having that kind of magnetism. In fact, she had favored both men, for falling so carelessly for each other through good friendship. Their connection was natural and right, she respected it. Blaize had been the only one determined to be wholly uncomfortable, for no good reason when they were just good friends… or so Blaize had assumed. Today, the shopkeeper waved at him and welcomed in who had become the store's best patron--for his wife's settlement. Blaize just stood there, imagining Celestia in one of the spectacular dresses. Gods, she was exotic and sumptuous, even when angry.

"I want that again, so much…"

If so, then why did he show weakness for Dannox the night before? Blaize felt sick, pushing himself so far to remember. It was over, over, over.

When Blaize returned to the apartment Celestia sat at a stripped breakfast table with a handkerchief crumpled in one fist. Oh, she had not been playing around at all.

"Did you find your walk restorative? Are you ready to get back to planning the end of our banishment and the start of our freedom from one another?"

Blaize passed by the table, tossed something onto it, and then shut himself up in the bathroom. Celestia picked up a dark chocolate candy bar in silver wrapper, and inspected it. "How strange he is, when he actually loves someone." she realized. "But I can't possibly allow myself to eat this."

"Eat it!" Blaize stormed back out into the open, shirt pulled out of his trousers. "Eat the damned thing, there is nothing wrong with your body, you look fine, you look perfect. I used the last of my savings, anyways. Go on, and have a little candy, for gods-sakes!" he pulled at his white-streaked hair, then disappeared back into the little room.

Celestia cupped a hand over her mouth to hide sure laughter. "When I forget about the affair, and I can accept again, that you are a heartless scoundrel, then maybe I will have a bite. But only then, when-- _if _we are friends."

Blaize muttered something from the bathroom, but Celestia didn't understand it. Then, there was a knock on the front door.

"Good evening, my Queen. Is your husband about?"

Celestia was tempted to say No to the stranger. She was angry enough to let Blaize walk out of the bathroom and see her getting revenge with this remarkably poised gentleman with the enticing, feral gaze. "Well, what for?" she shrugged one rounded shoulder. Feh, why try? Not worth it.

"You see, the thing is… he slept with my husband."

"My husband trespassed against your family. My husband slept with your wife, do you mean?"

This person turned a black hat around in both hands. "I'm well aware of what I just said, don't try and hide Blaize from me. That rake, that liar, that filth! I don't know why Kael'thas ever chose to put up with him, but not me, _ever_?"

Then, from the depths of the apartment, Blaize went, "…Faltheriel?"

"AAAAARGGH! Die!" and Faltheriel Darkweaver produced a twisted dagger, shoved Celestia aside.

She held fast to the kitchen counter--for the sitting room and the couch and the breakfast table were all crammed into one another--and screamed. "It's the Shatthrah City double-murderer!"

Blaize raised fists and maneuvered once around the table, so that Faltheriel was forced to the remainder of the apartment, and Celestia was at her husband's back. Both of them had access to the door.

"Go get help!"

She obeyed. Blaize felt the slight relief that came with noticing she was a lot more useful than any of the other women in his life. Celestia knew the he was no longer a spring chicken, that this intruder's abilities were yet unpredictable, and deduced for herself that escape was the lone option. She only needed to know he was in control of the situation, for that opening.

"Faltheriel, I can't give you anything to do with Kael'thas. I've been banished, in case you haven't heard. I don't have that kind of power anymore."

"Oh, ho ho!" he laughed angrily, "I am SO over Kael'thas. I'm a father twice over now, these days. All those divorces in the Legion and the Shadow Council got cleared years ago."

"How nice for you--"

"Shut up! I had plans, big plans for him. And I thought you two were just friends, my husband was getting some comfort in his situation. Novia was clearly just another fast woman he'd caught, he is always catching those… but you turned out to be his rooster, didn't you? There can't be two of _them_!"

Blaize screwed up his face. Why did they ever take his sword away? The perfectly balanced blade of a Sunfury General never truly aged if it was well taken care of, and he could have taken off this fool's blonde head by now.

About fifty tinny warcries swelled up in the hallway, and Gnomes with colorful puffs of hair crowded in through the open door. Celestia had rallied the neighbors. They brandished arclight spanners, gyrochromatons, robotic chickens, adjusted rose-colored goggles, and the like. Faltheriel dove over the table while Blaize was distracted with being horrified at them, and landed a manly punch in his rival's face. The Gnomes began shouting that Blaize was family, they loved him, and they would never leave him to get hurt by some criminal!

"Oh, by the Sun, Faltheriel, why didn't you just kill me with that damned dagger!"

Faltheriel was mobbed by the little people who tugged on arms, gnawed ankles, and enveloped the Blood Elf. They were a swarming, off-pitch cheering mass when Faltheriel suddenly exploded out of the throng, roared with fright, and then tore out of the sitting room, then the bedroom, pried his dagger into the window to shove it open, and finally threw himself out of it.

Celestia was out in the street calling for a city guard when Faltheriel slammed into the gray cobblestone at her feet. Blaize squeezed into the tiny bedroom window with several other ruddy-cheeked cherub faces.

"We sure got 'im good, didn't we, General?"

And that was precisely when Faltheriel peeled himself off the sidewalk, and sprinted back down the street: once they had all finally got comfortable with him being dead and done in the story.

Blaize raced outside and seized Celestia in his arms when the crazy man had gone. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head over and over, that no he hadn't, and he kissed her cheek, squeezed her still closer, apologized for everything. But then the authorities arrived, and Celestia released him to handle business. After that, Blaize was questioned until the sun went down, and no more could be determined at all about the strange event except for it was, in fact, Faltheriel Darkweaver, that the fall from so many stories up should have killed him but it had not, and now he was loose in the city. The policemen scratched their heads and promised to 'look into it.'

The Gnomes had left to make their own dinners--or perhaps the better phrase is 'burn their own dinners with various mechanical devices' long ago. Alone in their apartment once more, Blaize and Celestia had a seat on their only suitable piece of furniture.

"I realize that we could have jeopardized our chance to meet with Saturna, because of the scandal talking to authorities may cause… thank you for taking that chance, calling for them to make sure I'd be safe, no matter what happened."

"Faltheriel said that you slept with his husband."

Blaize got very uncomfortable and said he needed to go on another walk.

"Fine, do that. But, before you go…" she patted his hand. "Know that I don't judge you."

"I'm not into men!"

"Well, it does explain why you ended up with me. You don't feel attracted to me, so there's no pressure, and no one could ever blame you, either, when I'm… I'm old." she smiled sadly. "What we have is an intellectual connection, nothing more. This past month between us was just boredom and need, I understand. A man… whomever he likes, he still has needs. And so do I, which is why I've been letting you. It's never had anything to do with me personally, correct?"

Blaize left the room. Then he came back, sat back down and began furiously unwrapping the candy bar he'd bought. "Eat it. Now."

"But I don't want it. I seriously am not hungry, nor do I want candy for dinner."

Then Blaize broke off a huge chunk and stuffed it into his own mouth. "Well fine then, I'm starving. All day, I've been talking to stupid city officials or fighting off some raging lunatic who broke into my apartment and scared the wits out of my wife."

Celestia had a dainty piece. "Mmm, this is just… just perfect Blaize. My new favorite flavor."

He took it back and started to finish the candy. Celestia saw him try it, shouted, slapped his hand, and they fought over the very last piece. They ended, trying to dab up chocolate from each other's mouths and laughing very hard.

"You're a sexy woman, Celestia. And I'm telling you the truth."

"Which is why you cheated on me? To show me how wonderful I am."

He collapsed on the bed, groaning angrily that he was done talking for the day.

Celestia changed her clothes while he wasn't looking and went straight to sleep. Blaize lay beside her in the darkness, fully dressed. He thought for a long time, stared up at the ceiling, wondered if he could admit to himself what he really wanted, to save this.

Paper wrapper crinkled in the dark, and the bed creaked when Celestia leaned over to see what he was doing.

"You have TWO? Gimme that--"

"No, this was my cigar money. If you're not going to make dinner--"

"_My _cigar money, that I allowed you, from what Kael'thas gives to me every month. Share that with me at least, give it here!"

They fought over his second chocolate bar like fools, Blaize got rolled off the bed, and when he got back, the thing was gone.

"Fine, I'll make supper this time. What do you want?"

"Shh. Go to sleep, Nathaniel. I'm just glad that you didn't get completely pummeled today."

"Thank you, Celestia. I'm glad that you don't completely hate me."

But in the morning, Celestia had gone out to do something or other before the opera, and she had not even left her usual note. Blaize tried not to feel slighted, or worse, lonely.

He let his mind wander back to better days. He thought he saw the gold diary on the nightstand from the corner of his eye, clattering, moving of its own accord, begging to be read… but that motivated him all the more to ignore the strange enchanted book. Its red stain reflected all the morning light coming from the window, so at last, Blaize seized it and turned the pages.

When he got where it wanted, it sliced happily through one of his fingers too.

"Oh, you damned thing! You are lucky I already feel so pathetic…"

Author's Note:

Part Two will complete the story of how Blaize and Celestia got banished together, and clarify what Kael'thas' revenge plan was, before Arthas interrupted.


	13. Ghostpuppies, Revenge Plan Part II

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Thirteen: Ghostpuppies**

**(Kael'thas' Big Arse Revenge Plan, Part II)**

There was a letter paperclipped to one of the more recent entries in Celestia's diary. The correspondence was written in a desperate, jagged hand which was hard to ignore. Blaize found himself unfolding it hungrily. Paper crackled several times before the heady rush wore away and he saw that his paper cut stained the message too.

_Dear Grandmother, you scheming, soul-sucking…_

Finally, something he could get into! For, Blaize still felt anger towards Celestia, somewhere. Rather than let it cause him shame, as it had yesterday, he allowed the blood stains and threats to make his time alone and abandoned in the apartment feel thrilling.

…_I remember. I remember, finally, what caused me to be in the Sunspire on that very day. I was just a child then, only four years old, but you were grown and so is your present husband! How could you two keep it all to yourselves? I grew up with a fiend for a father because people like you chose to be silent. Just how far does this conspiracy against me extend? Beyond Silvermoon, as far as Outland, even? There are two worlds between Kael'thas and Illidan now, but no less treachery. I have determined that they two are still the greatest villains the world has ever known. I can't understand why Thrall ever exonerated them, or why the man who was meant to be my father banished you--when he could have executed you. Three generations of Sunstriders have been destroyed because of one woman!_

_What follows is all my evidence that the present state of suffering in Quel'thalas is your fault alone. I will publish this if you refuse to help me…_

And this person--at first Blaize had supposed it to be Prince Chao'thas--went on and on for pages, a life's worth of gathered facts regarding the royal Court of Silvermoon, King Anasterian, Queen Anthene'alas, some of their friends in common who'd fallen prey to the barristers during the legal proceedings at the end of the monarch's scandalous life. There were still more precious details about Kael'thas' childhood before that event, and the author had gone back as far as Queen Saturna's history, when she had been known as Lady Mageblade, all the suffering attendant to Celestia's far-reaching schemes which caused Anasterian to fall and for Saturna to seek the life of a vengeful Bloodknight.

"This is hate-mail if I've ever seen it. Perfect."

The old surge of cruel joy returned, from the days when he and Dannox had schemed together, to be free of their women if they could, but not the lifestyle. There were going to be sun-bleached brunches and cigars forever--the women could get younger and stupider, looser… for he now realized there was nothing more vexing than an intelligent, and vengeful female! Was it too late to destroy Celestia and get free of the marriage, their love, all of it? To know this, he could only read on.

_And then I am faced with my only clear memory from childhood, thanks to Kael'thas. He is right here with me, terrified at the strength of thousands-of-years-old tree prisons. I write by the same light which also conveys the best look of horror on a monarch this side of Azeroth._

To be truthful, Blaize skimmed the rest:

Once upon a time, in a fangirl-saturated land (thankfully) far away,

Belorim went running from room to room, looking for Advisor Sorn. The King's Advisor was meant to keep an eye on him. He peered into each tall doorway and stuck fingers in his mouth when he found so many empty sitting-rooms and meeting halls, bedrooms that were almost always occupied by at least one napping Bloodknight when his heroes always worked in shifts. White sunlight streaked in a single powerful beam down the white marble corridor, and the boy stood there, looking one way, and then another, seeing no one, hearing his own echoes. He remembered that Daddy had left for Northrend, and he had been so angry, he hardly said goodbye. Belorim sniffled back tears.

"They're surely down here, trying to contact Orgrimmar, hurry!"

Belorim knew the voice, but, even at his age, he didn't trust the man. The little boy saw General Blaize sprinting hard, red cape flying, and flanked by Sunfury soldiers. But this was not Tempest Keep, he would get in trouble for running in the palace! Belorim was still seeing Liadrin's angry face, from when he drew a farm with Hawkstriders, sheep, and cows, on the walls, in crayon.

The General was nearly upon him, slowing pace to decide what to do with him, the now expendable heir to Silvermoon's throne, when Belorim turned himself into a sheep.

"What the--"

"General, we must focus on the Caretakers!"

Belorim was lifted by the wooly scruff of his neck before Blaize could reach him, and snatched into an adjacent room. The door slammed shut to Blaize shouting something about seeing a black sheep cross his path. A click at the doorknob, and Belorim's latest captor growled and dragged him beneath a bed. It was a soft, snarling creature that wanted to protect him. Her fierce energy died immediately as that door opened again, and Belorim knew, animal to animal, that he needed to be quiet now too.

Blaize walked into the room, sword held in relaxed grip, but ready for anything. The Sunfury peered in from the hallway, impatient, but determined to honor their leader's instincts.

"Now," Blaize announced to the room, "Whom do I know, who can turn himself into a little black sheep?" The man turned suddenly and tore down a curtain. No one behind that. "At least, the last time we saw one another, he was still too little to conjure any magic. But… if his father showed him one mage-trick, to save his royal hide…" Blaize snatched open a closet.

"Is this truly more important than getting hold of the Caretakers Thrall sent?"

"When Arthas succeeds at killing Kael'thas, and Thrall hears that his heir has also been eliminated, do you really think any alarum sent from this city will change the fact that Celestia and I are the most capable, beneficent leaders the Blood Elves could want? It really saves us time, gentlemen."

His new friend growled exactly like a dog. Belorim kicked her a little with his trotter, to be quiet. Their view of his crimson greaves came closer. Some whispering the two could not understand, laughter. "Sunfury, operation sheep-shear on the count of one… two…"

"FROSTSHOOOOOCK!"

"MOONFIIIIIIIIIIIRE!"

"Daddy!" went the ghost wolf beneath the bed.

Blaize was knocked off his feet. They saw him struggle to recover on the ground, a bit of smoke wafting up from the crown of his head, exactly at the white blaze mark. And there was a smear of fire-burn on the ground nearby too. The fight forced its way into the room. They could see the colorful flare of totems on the floor. Blue ones, red ones, green ones.

"Oh, that's the Earth-bind totem. Get 'em, mom!"

Belorim wanted to see too. He bleated an eager cheer. They wagged their tails together.

Sets of Tauren hooves thunder-stomped the smooth floor, cracked it, gave the soldiers a pounding. Blaize was better with the shaman than Belorim remembered his father recounting once. Daddy had walked with a limp for days, something about his bum-bum being frozen!

Bear-roar, elemental totem which unleashed a fiery creature from its scowling carved mouth. The crack of a staff over backs, fury of wind drowned out their young hopeful voices. Then General Blaize leapt into the air with Elven grace, twisted torso to miss several desperate shocks of ice-magic, then came down with two hands on the longsword to slice the Farseer's wood weapon in half, with startling accuracy. It could not have done much, when the Tauren woman Belorim would later know as Skywarden did not rely on a weapon for her greatest attack. But it served two more clever purposes in that moment, when the scuffle could have turned. Her husband, Lesser Two-Bears became incensed, and Skywarden flinched at the Blood Elf man known across two planets as the military genius who'd taken Tempest Keep, and a great deal else of Outland for an evil Prince.

Skywarden and Lesser Two-Bears already learned that Kael'thas wasn't much more than charming when he was powerless. And now, they were seeing that his General had always been the brawn behind what should have always been empty threats to enemies and allies alike, whenever the Sunfury were backed into a corner. Lesser came out of his bear-form to heal his wife, and the Sunfury immediately seized his energy with several loud mana-tap spells. As for Skywarden, she was already spent.

Blaize shouted something and the soldiers pushed their palms against the air. Mother and Father were forced off the ground.

"A top secret technique Kael'thas never approved of, since it would have interfered with his magisters on the battlefield. Though, his opinion doesn't matter now. Painful silence spell, isn't it? It incapacitates you magically and physically. Any of my men would gladly use it on you again, if you dare contact Thrall."

Lesser said, "The Warchief will never allow you to get away with this, Blaize. And there is so much dishonor in attacking your own city, the moment the King leaves. If you thought Kael'thas such a miscreant, why didn't you challenge him face to face, like a man?"

Skywarden added, "The Spirits will never smile upon you, after such cowardice. And, if you think this is some way to win Saturna Whiteblade back, by being a better King, know that she has already been stolen away to--"

Blaize said, "They're attempting to distract me. Classic strategy, herd defending their young. Search this room."

The ghost wolf panicked and whined as the soldiers began tearing open furniture.

"My mommy is already a ghost, I don't want to die again…"

Green eyes fixed on him. "Then you can do this. Be a wolf."

Belorim lost his tender nerve, cried loudly that he couldn't. The mattress was whipped free of the bed. The two little ones turned wide eyes to men grinning at them from beyond a naked bed frame. The Tauren began yelling anything they could. "Arka tu'kale! Arka tu'kale!"

"Your mother is a spirit, you can so! Do it, Prince Belorim. If you can be a sheep, then it's only one step more. Do like me, follow me…Arka tu'kale!"

The bed was dragged away from the wall. The she-wolf scampered away, on her long fuzzy legs, and then faded into nothing.

Her shaman mother kept repeating the chant. Belorim felt his breaths calm. He thought of his mother, and of Anveena, of the blue world they once knew. There were always wolves there, so many wise dogs, going along the old trails, howling their promise to always protect a good Spirit…

Belorim was soon a boy, not a sheep, and then a blue wolf. He snapped little teeth at the soldier who grabbed him and began to use the Silence. In a lucky moment, Belorim disappeared too.

Beyond, in a blue palace free of any evil, he found May sitting in the hallway. They just barely heard the echoes of people shouting. Blaize's voice was easy to hear. Belorim had never known him to be so angry, and he had seen his father be especially severe on the man.

"Let's help them--"

"No! Don't shift back. It's not safe to be in the Spirit World beyond your ghost-form, or else the windserpents can find you." The two ghost puppies stood there on trembling legs, roving their big ears at what they could hear but not see. Suddenly, May barked, and ran down the hallway, sniffing, and running, sniffing and trying to follow. Belorim started barking too, their long jowls let forth frenzied baby protests. At the end of the corridor, there were two stairwells, one going up to a tower of the palace, and the other going down. May could no longer smell where her parents had been taken. She lay down, covered her muzzle and cried.

Belorim folded big round ears. The long, curtained window above them let in a breeze that passed through the afterlife. Tattered crystal curtains billowed like sails overhead, seemed to bloat and extend as far as May's sorrow.

He closed his eyes and howled. The world now felt cold and vast, but there were suddenly more lupine voices joined with theirs. At last, May tilted her long head back and sang too.

"Will they find us and help us?"

"No, we are only pretending to be wolves. The real wolves won't like knowing it's only a game shaman play sometimes."

He wagged his tail a little. "But do you feel better?"

"I do, Prince Belorim. Thank you."

"What do we do now?"

"I don't know." and then she introduced herself. Belorim liked May. He asked her if they would get to bite people as ghost wolves, she turned and snapped at him, held his jaws closed with her baby teeth and did not let go until he promised to be more serious. "And if you didn't know, that is what Arka tu'kale means. We're all grown up now."

He trotted after her, "But I'm only FOUR!"

_Elsewhere in the castle…_

"You all have two choices." Tempestraven gripped the bars of her prison cell. Sunfury soldiers ushered forth two beaten Tauren, and locked them up nearby. "Hey! Guys who took me out on a date like, not more than two months ago at Tempest Keep… Either move me so that I don't have to hear these annoying people anymore, or at least get me a damned cigarette!"

Liadrin grumbled. She was locked up with Sorn. "Oh, how she shines in these moments."

Daphne was paired with Sunthraze, and Pyorin was chained to a wall. "Guys, Freddy, Tom… can I at least sit down? Geez, I know your friggin names, stop pretending like, all of a sudden, the Knights of the Blood Nexus aren't friends of yours!"

Freddy replied, "Oh, I see you over there, Pyorin the Woman-Tank. Say, do you remember that time I lost all my Rave tokens to you in a fixed Darkmoon Faire card game?"

"But all Darkmoon Faire card games are fixed."

Tom finished it. "The Rave burned, back when you Bloodknights _failed _to keep Kael'thas from running away to join the Burning Legion." Several Bloodknights around began arguing that it wasn't really Kil'jaeden after Kael'thas, just a fanboy stalker named Faltheriel Darkweaver. And Kael'thas had come back to Silvermoon after that, so that act of salvation counted. "Blah, blah, blah, my Prince this, my King that. Oh look at me, I'm not incompetent at all… But guess what? Somehow, you still managed to get yourself chained to a wall. Good night." and then the Sunfury guards left.

When their shouting died down, Liadrin further commented, "I do admire Nate, though. He set them all up in perfect configuration. Sunthraze's jokes don't do anything for Daphne who is smart enough to have a real appreciation of the danger we're in. Pyorin can't flirt with her or anyone else, being chained in such an embarrassing fashion, to a wall. And Tempest is several cages away from anyone on both sides. It'd be funny, absolutely charming of him if it weren't also confirmation that the only Bloodknight who managed to do her job while at Tempest Keep was ME!"

Uncomfortable silence.

Tempest chanced it, perhaps because she wasn't acting normally without her cigarettes, "Liadrin, it's real easy to pay attention to what a woman is doing or saying when she's belting it out in your lap."

Liadrin growled and lashed her arm through the bars, on instinct. Sorn shared his cell with her. "Liadrin, this is hardly the time to flatter yourself in any case. If you hadn't flown into hysterics about how the Bloodknights would never do anything against Kael'thas, than Magnus might have managed to convince Blaize that we two, at least, were more valuable set up in a comfortable room upstairs, where our inside knowledge of the city's workings could be accessed oh so happily and easily from faux turncoats. It's why I wanted us to wait near the throne in the first place."

"Are you making fun of me?"

The Tauren fit into cages on either side of Tempest the Raven began paying attention right then. The male Druid stood. "Am I hearing correctly? Did the Chief Advisor of King Kael'thas Sunstrider just confess to having some kind of inside arrangement with those hooligans upstairs?"

Sorn looked bored. "It would please your Warchief. Kael'thas is going to end all the rumors against him by blaming every sin, every misdeed on 'those hooligans upstairs', or really, the ringleader of all the Sunfury hooligans."

The shaman, who called herself Skywarden asked, "I see, so Blaize is the scapegoat. That would explain why we were kept alive, Lesser. This Magnus person is really giving the orders to General Blaize, and he knows the will of his master is to eventually return to the throne. There is no real interest in obliterating the bond with Orgrimmar, as we first feared."

Liadrin kept looking at her four Bloodknights while Sorn and the Tauren chatted about how clever Kael'thas' plan was. Sorn, of course, had corrected at every dangerous turn. Kael'thas wanted Blaize dead, Sorn advised that he couldn't be made into a martyr. Kael'thas had wanted to ship the Bloodknights off to Abu-Dabi, or at least an asteroid in the middle of the Twisting Nether, and Sorn suggested they be treated more humanely, etcetera.

As she was forced to listen, Liadrin thought of how Kael'thas had got control over Fennore and then recruited Mavia into the Blood Nexus, practically without her consent. Magnus had been the first rogue of their order, but now Mavia and Fennore made three. Saturna Whiteblade had been the founding Nexite, but she got drunk on a dare and trekked across Outland to seduce--and let's face it, salvation was most likely only second on her agenda--Kael'thas Sunstrider. And then, to top it off, all her other Bloodknights were busy bed-hopping while Kael'thas was dealing with so much at Tempest Keep, being tempted by Kiljaeden--Well! If it wasn't Kil'jaeden, then it was at least a substantial threat from the Burning Legion. Faltheriel Darkweaver had been a Legion Ranger, afterall… But why should all her efforts come to nothing, and here Sorn is able to brag about how, really, at the end of the day, what Kael'thas did was discover all their secret plans before they could get implemented and maneuver his own Bloodknights exactly where he wanted. And she saw now, that Sorn had helped!

"That's not true at all!" she found herself shouting. "Kael'thas Sunstrider and Sorn were in fact trying to over-throw Thrall's caretaker government and rule free of Horde influence. It was the main reason they let you two arrive before giving the order for Magnus to tell Blaize to attack. Do you think they had any less control over the situation to have come this far? And Magnus the Unmaker is one of _mine_, he is our creation. We were trying to keep him under control because we felt a man with the power to unmake people's minds with suggestion or hobble them as man-pets with an Unmaking spell should not be allowed to wander free all over Azeroth. But what did Kael'thas and his lackey do, when they found out about Magnus while at Tempest Keep? They tricked Magnus into thinking he was working for anti-monarchists and so swindled him onto our side of the war, when he was always an enemy to the Knights of the Blood Nexus."

"I never told you when, exactly, we discovered Magnus was the eighth member of the Blood Nexus--"

She shouted Sorn down, "You didn't need to! I've had plenty of time to figure it out, sitting here in this dungeon. Kael'thas would have hatched the plan first, he must have got it out of Fennore or else Mavia who are bound to him by warlock blood. And then he sent Sunfury spies to track down the man in Gadgetztan where we last saw him. For months they must have just been watching, waiting… and then just before we end up retaking Silvermoon--the first time, with my Bloodknights helping--Kael'thas arranges with Magnus for all this to be set in motion, against Blaize."

Sorn folded hands in his lap and turned completely towards her, on the rickety bench. He hid a smile. "Aren't you something. Can you guess the very date the deal was made?"

She was flustered, hair coming out of its coif, pins plucked up everywhere. "Oh, I don't know… the only time Kael'thas was sufficiently out of all our sights must have been on his wedding night."

Daphne gasped. Tempest let out a long expletive that I won't frighten you with here. But just know, all of Saturna's friends were horrified to hear how efficiently Kael'thas had plotted against them, and in a way, used his wife as a cover. At the Black Temple, Saturna had got pregnant right when she could have judged Kael'thas unworthy. While serving the Prince at Tempest Keep, his broken heart prevented any of them from really judging him, and finally, back in Silvermoon, his wife and once greatest champion, Saturna, had been a shield. Kael'thas hid behind her overpowering joy at being made Queen at last, made shady deals with no one suspecting him to be anything less than just as blissful. But the scheming never stopped. Magnus was supposed to be the one the Blood Nexus would ride out into the sunset after, and hunt down once things in Silvermoon had been settled once and for all. But Kael'thas had found the errant Bloodknight first, abusing even their sacred codes, and employed him personally.

Lesser Two-Bears commented, "That Kael'thas is too smart to be in the Horde." His wife shot him an annoyed look, when there were enough condescending Blood Elves making routine commentary about Tauren already.

Skywarden said to Sorn, "If all that the Bloodknight Matriarch says is true, then Thrall will never trust Kael'thas again, whenever he does regain the throne."

The old man cupped his hands and blew into them. "So be it. I know whom I serve. Are you ready, Liadrin?"

She questioned his logic in seriously asking her for anything at this point.

"Have my…" and it took incredible strength to confess it in front of everyone, "feelings for you all this time disrupted the very logical plan Kael'thas set out for me to follow? Will I ruin what was meant to be my last mission for him because there is someone closeby who causes my hands to shake, even now, because at first I confided in her, and now I want to undo things a little bit so that she won't hate me forever? Yes, I do tempt the wrath of the House of Sunstrider at last, after all these long years. Anasterian abused you, and I stayed silent. Blaize toyed with you, I saw it coming, but I refused to get involved and warn you. Presently, Magnus is coming for the Blood Nexus, for it must be about three days' in… and I want to keep you free of that."

Sorn lifted up his hands and released a tiny orange phoenix to the room. Anyone who had seen Belorim's Greatfather Winter present from Kael'thas last year would have instantly known then, who had made it for the young boy at the last minute. The orange conjured bird floated around the room, sang and showed off, then returned to its master. Sorn watched it calculate on its own, learn, and then disappear inside the lock. Not long after, it clicked open.

Advisor Sorn walked out of the cell and Liadrin followed, in amazement. "I can feel my mana returning…"

"Yes, the ward meant to hobble magic users is built into the bars, or else the jailors would have real trouble with us." Sorn conjured a portal to Tempest Keep and extended his hand. "Will you come with me? I have a great deal of work to do, and I want you to see it--exactly and truly. I think that, if you can see all that Kael'thas intends, so much of which I can't divulge here, then you will understand why I have worked so hard to assist him in everything, even manipulating your Bloodknights these last few years. Liadrin, don't tarry if you even suspect you might appreciate me, for this will be our only chance."

She winced, but took his hand, then the two most loyal servants of the House of Sunstrider disappeared. Everyone else dealt with the uncomfortable reality that they could have been freed too, but were not.

Sunthraze broke his silence, "Wait a damned minute, did Sorn just say that Magnus was coming for us? And Liadrin just left!"

Pyorin went, "Uh…?"

Daphne said, "Well, I choose to recall the happier moments of my life, while I can remember them. Tempest, do you remember when we sneaked off to Undermine right after Kael'thas retook the throne? I so liked your wedding to Sunthraze at that Naga temple. Wasn't it between the Un'goro, and the Golden Wrench casinos? I never saw something so sloppy and drunken come out so beautiful."

"Aw, thanks, Daphs. But, I thought you would have gone for the sloppy drunken shagging you gave Pyorin in the elevator ride back up to our rooms afterward. Our little virgin's first time tossing her cookies for a man. So cute."

The two Tauren could not believe what they were hearing. Lesser Two-Bears said, "Pasha am ukka ni holay mu'lape."

His wife nodded, "Arka tu'kale. So sad."

Loosely translated, they felt their seven year old daughter was far more emotionally developed.

Pyorin sort of helped to solidify their opinions, "I may not have been awake for it, but I remember every other time afterward, and really, Daphne, I'm glad we waited. You're all Aces." and winked.

Magnus arrived shortly after with a team of guards to protect him. He lifted his arms, began to conjure the gold magic tainted with black putrid stuff, and apologized in advance for any unpleasantness. "Master wished me to unmake you as you are, and change you into actual, competent Bloodknights fully loyal to Kael'thas Sunstrider. So then, when the King of Quel'thalas comes crashing down, I pray to all the gods that you go screaming with him, like the feckless little miscreants you are. Oh, and you four will also be giving rave-reviews of my Magnus Opus when it hits an opera house near you, rated R for nudity and bloodlust, of course. Tasteful nudity, though. I don't run _those _sorts of shows anymore."

_And now, I'm sure you'd like to get off that topic, so…_

In the spirit world, Belorim and May rested in one of the gray palace gardens. She tucked one paw beneath herself while the younger ghost puppy lapped up water from a fountain.

"May, are we gonna stay like this?"

"I don't know what else to do." she got cross with him, "Do you think you know better than me, because you're FOUR?"

He wagged his tail. "I know that sometimes you have to ask adults for help."

She shut her eyes again. "I saved you from the General. I can save us from this too, I just need more time to think."

"But you said there were wind-purplepants."

She blinked at him. "Windserpents?"

Belorim went back to drinking water. May giggled and explained, "But there's gotta be somebody around here we can take. Someone small who can make a big difference. Do you know anyone like that, Belorim?"

"I heared Blaize getting yelled at. That's what made me go look for everyone."

"Was she small?"

"She was short." Belorim made a mean face. "Blaize was afraid of her."

"_Who wouldn't be?"_

May stood and growled. The fur along Belorim's back stood on end too. He smelled the stranger.

"_Don't be afraid of me, little ones." _A man coalesced in their presence. He was accompanied by two wind-serpents, one red and one gold. May barked and snatched the long tail of one, but its partner conjured fire and spat it at her paws. She yipped and danced away.

"_And now we see which one got hold of the Sunstrider gift. Young as this ghost wolf was, he knew better than to bite before learning his enemy. Hail, Belorim."_

"Mister, why do you look like my Dad?"

"_Because the man raising you once called me father. Do you understand? I am King Anasterian."_

May and Belorim were too young to appreciate this visit.

"_Your friend was right to challenge me, though. In the Spirit World, windserpents rarely ally themselves with the righteous, unless they are very powerful, or… I suppose Farseers each have a spirit guide. But you spoke about Celestia, and that is why I came. That name has not been spoken in my presence in so very long."_

"If you really wanna help then tell us how to beat her." May kept her distance.

Anasterian laughed hard. _"Oh, I'd love to help you. But promise that you will not ask me how I am doing it. That's not for innocent ears. Do we have a deal?"_

Belorim was the one being asked. He let his ears dip, and he licked his nose while he thought. "Why are you still here? When Mom and I died, we saw the Spirit World, but we didn't like it. Mom wanted us to stay in the Whiteblade where Daddy would find us. It's too lonely in other places, where the people you know can't see you."

"_I know, that is why your mother went to visit your father, in the porn-trait." _Anasterian was smiling very hard, then checked himself before what was, in many ways, a grandson. _"But think, boy, of what you just told me. Of course I would be here. I don't want to be anywhere else, and my son Kael'thas only just got back to Silvermoon. I was pleased until the god of Death trespassed here and took your mother away. I've waited five years, I can wait longer until Kael'thas returns and I can show him what needs to be done to fix this kingdom. In the meantime, let's play a mean little game with my ex-wife, shall we?"_

Really, the only person with something to lose was Celestia. So the ghostpuppies were glad to do it.

Anasterian showed them how to get to the Throne Room. May and Belorim wandered around the place, sniffing while he stood at the center of the room. The ceiling had great gashes in it according to the Spirit World, and the gray swirling sky could be seen above that. Someday, the sky would open up and consume the Sunspire. There was tension around the old seat too. Though they could not see her, Queen Celestia was surely there. Anasterian faced it head-on, clawed hands and held them out. The windserpents at his side hissed triumphantly, flew and wound themselves in excited circles all about the room.

"_Belorim, before you return to the world of life, there is something I want you to know. Your father only did what he thought was right. And I'm not talking about Illidan. Feeding you, putting clothes on your back, that is not what makes a father. It hardly made mine, and in the end, his opinion mattered even less to me. I had to live my own life, I married whom I wanted, I ruled how I pleased. Belorim, when I had a choice later in life, to raise my son or else let the servants or the Chief Advisor raise him for me, as so many generations of Sunstrider had done to Princes of Quel'thalas in the past, I decided to be near Kael'thas. I told him every story about his mother that I knew. I made sure that he was a capable mage. I gave him power to go with the inherited talent, and my perfect looks… what else could a man need in life?"_

May grumbled something, but Belorim barely understood her or his step grandfather for that matter. "Yessir."

Anasterian's ghost seemed to realize he was losing someone so young. _"You may not be a Sunstrider by blood, because of what Illidan did, but you have inherited our magical powers during your time in the Whiteblade. There is a great deal you can contribute to the world, and I hope you do it better than I have, or even better than your father has. All schools of magic rest within you. I would not have guessed shaman, myself, but that makes sense. You are already wise beyond your years… and I suppose Tauren women have something to recommend themselves." _Anasterian's eyes wandered, in thought, _"I always did like a woman with something to hold onto… alright, back to your true selves. On my count."_

Queen Celestia was temporarily alarmed by the sudden appearance of the boy Prince and the young Tauren girl in her Throne Room. Blaize was not there, some news had arrived from the Convocation of Silvermoon. Something about hundreds of top-secret Tempest Keep reports being delivered, and him being the mastermind behind the plot to destroy the Lost Ones in Outland? But hadn't in been Kael'thas determined to destroy the hobbled Draenei race all those years ago? And there were countless other accusations, about the Exodar getting away, the Fel Reaver being created from Legion technology on the General's orders, and everything else one could conceive of.

Whatever it was, didn't matter now though. Celestia suddenly felt such a sharp pain at the front of her dress, nothing in the world mattered. "What in the fel just goosed me?!"

The children didn't understand. They giggled. May cast the two totems she knew, and hopped up and down hitting the Queen with green Earthshock spells.

"You little," Celestia began to conjure a frostbolt, then almost fell over. Now, there was hardly anything to fill out the front of her dress. "This can't be happening… only Anasterian ever could--"

Eerie ghastly laughter echoed at the back of her mind. The result was a comical fight. The children ran circles around her, shouted, broke things, used fireshock spells to burn the documents she'd been signing. Queen Celestia was thwarted in taking her revenge upon them every time, by some new silly thing to happen to her bosom. At one point, she became so topheavy that she twirled on her toes mid-sentence and fell onto her back. She screamed and cursed Anasterian's name at the top of her lungs. A voice filled her mind,

"_You came into my house, deposed my son, and sat on my throne. Did you think this would never happen to you? Now, confess it…"_

Celestia grasped the sides of her head and writhed while May and Belorim hopped in circles, cheering their victory.

"_Confess it… tell the world what you did to the House of Sunstrider. I will never let you rest, Celestia. I am in hell now, because of you. Don't think that I won't see to your destruction. Kael'thas has survived me for a reason, because I have empowered him to do so!" _She saw windserpents in her waking dream, they spat and lashed fire.

"Guards!" she finally cried. The two children shook their rumps and became ghostwolves again. Anasterian would show them to the dungeon next.

But, when the guards asked what they could do to help her, she had no idea how to put it. A runner came and said that Arthas had fallen in Northrend, which was not supposed to be able to happen, either. It was exactly as Anasterian had said. The moment he should have failed, his son was announced to have survived even a Death God! Celestia became too terrified to call on General Blaize.

"She grabbed a woman-servant. It is at an end. Go into my room, burn all evidence… for when Kael'thas comes, I want to at least claim that I was coerced, that I deserve to live. And then, maybe I can save both of us, now go!"

None of the Queen's servants got very far though. Blaize came home to find four very capable Bloodknights tearing about the Throne Room and beating the Sunfury into submission. Their powers worked in impressive sparking harmony, this time. Magnus was no where to be found. Blaize was allowed to admire only that much before Daphne the Weaver reached over and knocked him in the head with her healing mace. This timed into a perfect sequence of spell-calling and restoring her comrades of course.

Back then, Blaize remembered wondering what in the fel had happened, to make everything change on him, nearly overnight? Now, as he read the last of Belorim Stormrage's letter, he finally understood.

"But he can't be… Belorim couldn't possibly be the son of Saturna Sunstrider? When would she have birthed him? It was Chaothas born at the Black Temple."

The diary now certainly frightened him. That, and the fact that Belorim was asking several thousand gold in exchange for King Kael'thas' release from Ashenvale.

Celestia had printed very carefully, in red ink, that there was no way in Northrend that she was going to help Belorim, as a note to herself. Blaize wondered why not? If Kael'thas did not survive, then what chance did they have to get back home? Whom would they tell Saturna to cling to and appease, whisper in his ear…

Then something more occurred to Blaize. Why should Kael'thas ever be happy? He'd set them all up. If some bastard step-child or whatever of his was finally making him pay for the neglect, then the world would be a better place, in exchange for that punishment.

Celestia slammed the bedroom door loudly, for Blaize to know that she'd caught him reading again. "I see you found Belorim's letter. Foolishness and nonsense, of course! That young man is completely mad."

"But, Celestia, I don't know when you last re-read any of your diary, but it fits with those events--"

She snatched the book back. "I did not give you permission to continue reading. And for the record, I don't go back more than a year at most, when the past is too painful. That's the smart thing to do."

Blaize objected still further, but she ended the conversation with an assertion that if Saturna Whiteblade was silly enough not to miss Kael'thas when he was obviously taken from their royal house, then they would not be getting involved either, end of story.

"It's a testament to how wrecked some marriages can get. We will play innocent, we will be supportive, we will not be involved, and we will like it, understand? Let Kael'thas' minions sort it out, they always do. Especially those Bloodknights who, for some strange reason, have been on-point this last decade. Now, try on this suit I got you. If you've put on weight since I left this morning, then that is especially pathetic for you, and after having cheated on me at that, when you are becoming less desirable every moment of your aging!"

"In that case, why don't you wear birthday suit, so that we can be the same?" Then, Blaize dared to kiss her cheek and say thank you before taking the shopping parcel from her into the next room.

Author's Note:

Shipping the Bloodknights off to Abu-Dabi is an obscure Garfield reference. Whenever Nermal gets on his nerves, he ends up in a package to this place far across the world. It's cute!


	14. The Magnus Opus, Part I

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter 14: The Magnus Opus, Part I**

**(Because even Saturna has a limit)  
**

Celestia said nothing when Blaize asked whose opera it was going to be.

"So then, now you're not even speaking to me?"

"I am perturbed because that silly question at first suggested _you_ were no longer _listening _to me."

"I always listen to you Celestia, dear. You just can't be allowed to know that lest you begin to expect me to act on everything you say. But, now that the cat is out of the bag, please tell me, again, what opera we are seeing tonight? I think I need to get mentally prepared."

The carriage bumped along, though Celestia had called for swift Hawkstriders this evening. She peered a bit out of the window, then came back smoothing her curled hair back into an updo. "Tawniest half-plainstrider breeds I have ever seen. Roan Sunthraze would have such a fit--It's the Magnus Opus, dear."

Blaize didn't understand.

"I really don't have the heart to explain anything else to you tonight. Just be as surprised as the Queen when she, no doubt, screams with delight at how special it all is, for someone connected to Kael'thas to have, singlehandedly, made an opera."

When they arrived, Saturna was not seated. Her son, Prince Chao'thas was there, however, katana sword laid out at his feet. The other three chairs in their gilded opera box were empty. A ravishing view of the Songstress' Opera House lay out beyond. Dalaran had spared no expense to honor one of its late heroes: an Elven Magistrix not very well known for her clear voice, but more for her want of a clear voice at every engagement, Kirin Tor assembly, on every battlefield when she'd start singing like an alley cat. That she had been such a scientifically capable and unforgettable awkward woman had won her, at last, the title Songstress. And, if in death, she could not now sing--even if badly, then her energy would enable the most talented of all others to do so.

This was the story Chao'thas told them, as they took their seats. Celestia insisted on being on Blaize's left, leaving his better hand free for Saturna. Beyond her empty chair, Chao'thas was on the left end, nearest the silver-curtained stage.

"My, do you know your Dalaran history!" Celestia buttered him up immediately.

"Tonight's entertainment was my idea, grandmama. The University dragged us here first semester, forced the history down our throats. I found myself smiling so hard, I eventually really liked it."

Celestia leaned past Blaize, to the young Prince, and blushed. But she found she couldn't say anything decent to defend against the 'grandmama' statement. Blaize smoothed things over by congratulating him on discovering one of the more elegant entertainments in this life, at least for his mother if not for himself. Chao'thas arched his fingers and grinned as cruelly as could his father. "Oh, but honestly, I do enjoy the spectacle of it--someone on the inside has guaranteed me the stage will be set on fire. I was only making a very, very clever joke, wasn't I, half-father?"

Celestia kissed her husband to prevent him responding decently to that jibe too.

The performance was running late. No formal explanation was given, but the spotlight did drift, eventually, to the Queen's royal theater box, that ornate balcony in which the three barely genial people and her empty chair sat. The woman in love with the husband she married only to spite her step-son, the doting, shackled husband who fake-jilted her with a lying boy-friend, and their broody half-son-half-grandson--Chao'thas remarked that he was getting younger by the minute, as they waited, then waved to the audience.

"I'll go fetch her, she hasn't stopped crying all evening, excuse me."

Which left Blaize and Celestia--the banished ex-monarchs of Quel'thalas--sitting alone in what was supposed to be an opera box reserved for only the most highly esteemed guests. The Prophet Velen was rumored to have occupied it last weekend. An usher arrived just before Saturna finally did--and he was ready to throw her guests out.

The show began not long after that embarrassment got untangled: yes, the current leadership of Silvermoon had every intention of consorting with political enemies and social outcasts of that same city. Celestia's warning about behaving for the duration of the month came and haunted Blaize then. He sorely wished he'd done a better job; up until last night they were almost free and clear! Damn that Dannox!

Celestia scooted her seat loudly from her husband, the Bloodknight-warlock Magnus the Unmaker strode onto the stage--Blaize freaked out to see their once cohort so plainly revealed, and Saturna stole his hand, all in the first few lines of the act.

Magnus looked very good, and the audience was understandably transfixed. He sang out in a choir boy siprano which made his statement about dark destiny and the cruelest betrayal ever done, seem somehow, even more twisted and unnatural. From where they sat, they could see actors hide behind large set pieces of old knotted trees and purple temple columns, as those things walked on stage.

Saturna whispered against Blaize's ear, "Darnassus."

Magnus finished his solo, and the music started. The orchestra seated just below his feet and the stage edge began another eerily gay melody. Pained violins cut the flitter of the wind section. Drums rolled then faded whenever a new actor emerged from behind his or her set piece, and danced lightly to take part in a circle at center stage. Celestia suddenly tugged Blaize's arm and pointed out Shine, Dannox's one-legged mistress. So! She had made her debut after all. Whatever race the other artists were--and male Trolls had been allowed to play shifty Night Elf druids, to give an idea of how far Magnus was willing to go, and win at cruel parody--the characters were dressed well. Perhaps, at the back of the house, the cheap seats thought they were seeing a beautiful Priestess of Elune, but then, oh how she'd hiss (being a reformed Naga) or cackle like a real Troll, only to discover that they were in fact those sorts--and be amazed at the skill of Magnus' casting. Magnus remained at the edge of the stage, with a conductor's wand in hand swirling up gold sparks of magic as he called on the musicians to quit, and the actors to speak up, in turn. As usual, he had excellent mind-control over the situation…

"Nate?"

"Yes, Saturna?" It was hard not to peer down at Chao'thas to see if he was listening. Feet propped up rudely on the golden railing and wriggling in time with the present solo suggested the young man would be sufficiently distracted. "I learned that you were crying."

She squeezed his fingertips, dabbed at eyes with a white handkerchief and nodded. "Things just aren't going well at all. I needed desperately to see you, really… I could never write that in a letter to your wife, and definitely not when Kael'thas could read it…" she cried and blew her nose when another singer started, and people began clapping for the first performer. A man and a woman wearing tall Highborne Elf ears and enough green mascara for even the cheap seats to get it, took hands and started a sad duet. "I'm trapped. Trapped as Queen, trapped as his wife--"

Celestia pinched Blaize on his left arm, when he was about to say Saturna could easily quit either or both of those roles. No, he was not there as her friend.

"What were you going to say, Nate?"

"Nothing at all. But, maybe you should tell me when this all got started." and then of course he would tell her where to end it. In the very place he and Celestia had determined many times, rehearsed suggesting as much over the entire course of the last month: in the King's bed, and fast, so that a good word could be put in for Blaize and Celestia to return home before their next inevitable royal tiff.

Over singing and her halting whispers, and Blaize's ashamed enjoyment of her needy warmth, Saturna did her best to recall her most horrifying moment with Kael'thas, in Darnassus. Stories below, a proud old Orc came before a Moonwell that raised up from the wood stage, set down the Warchief's hammer and bellowed.

_A decade earlier…_

Thrall stood before the Moonwell in the Temple of Elune. "Brothers and Sisters of the Horde and Alliance. I have called you all here to celebrate the victory over Arthas in Northrend. But it is a more incredible event, a more positive benchmark than even that, which I hope you all now realize was inevitable for both our factions. In our consistent efforts to work together, first in Outland against the Burning Legion, and then through the Kirin Tor and Argent Crusade in Northrend, we have proven to ourselves that peace is possible. Therefore, High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind is capable of facing Cairne Bloodhoof. Lord Bolvar is able to meet my eyes as an equal after suffering the Orcs so long. Velen and Kael'thas are capable of… they can be near each other. And the Gnomes have found common ground with the Darkspear Trolls, as something like cousins in an effort to strike out a place in their respective factions.

"But what are factions, but secondary identifiers, unnecessary battle-lines drawn where only tribal affiliation, or kingdom, should claim us personally? And when we go to war, we should be fighting more terrible foes than our ancestors were forced to; at least that is something we have all agreed upon time and again--that the old wars are too old. Let Arthas be vanquished instead. Let A'dal be aided in his time of need."

Then, Thrall lifted up the claw of Illidan Stormrage in his right hand, and Kael'thas' red gloved hand in his left. "Let the old rulers of Outland learn their lesson and our revenge against them be satisfied. Here are the heroes against Arthas!"

The applause was hard won. Thrall had to battle-cry and rile it up from the world leaders and every respective entourage. "When Kael'thas summoned Illidan into that fated chamber at Icecrown, Arthas took… Jaina Proudmoore, and left this realm. He also left a guild bank full of epic treasures--now thankfully rendered obsolete since we have transcended that conflict--and also a frazzled blue Troll Deathknight without any better sense than to strip what was left of his master's armies, and be found easily by authorities afterwards. But if it was not for the combined magics of Kael'thas _and _Illidan--that noble sacrifice the Bloodmage made to enslave the Demon Lord and make the world safer for us, and our children, and our childrens' children--Arthas would not have gone so easily. The once Prince of Lordaeron must have had a premonition, as he has been widely believed to be able, and saw how the example of his old enemies would rally the rest of the world. Kael'thas brought Vereesa and Sylvanas Windrunner together too as his first act of business. I think that even I would have peed myself, if I saw both their bows knocked and aimed at my head in that moment. And so, as we have heard it said, Arthas confessed his magic words and 'Left the Game…'

The speech was long and powerful. Many were moved to tears, and when Thrall relieved both Illidan and Kael'thas of their crimes in Outland, the gathered company was stunned to silence. But then Tyrande reminded her Allies that Elune had come in a vision and forgiven Illidan already, and the King of Stormwind lifted the bounty on Thrall. Thrall thanked and praised the King who once allowed Humans to enslave him, the Gnomes announced that the Trolls were not all that bad, the Trolls promised to stop making any more Gnome jokes, as did the Draenei. The Tauren had an easier time of identifying with the historical comrades of the Orcs back when Outland had been Draenor, and the Blood Elves--Saturna knew them all to be hand-picked yes-men of her husband's, these officials offered a golden plaque to Prophet Velen and donated an astronomical sum to his restoration efforts of the Exodar. A team of reformed Sunfury engineers were also donated to that task, but Velen, chuckling half-angrily, declined. He was the last to go, and sagely ended that it was the ultimate teaching of the Naaru to make peace. And so he honored everyone--even if Kael'thas was not specifically mentioned, he was encompassed therefore, within highest blessings of the Light.

But Blaize had long ago read in the papers about that part. It was the strange entertainment Kael'thas got up to right after, and the nasty fight Chao'thas challenged half-Demon Belorim Stormrage to, which floored the old General.

Now, on stage, the Elf in Kael'thas costume and an actor with mock Illidan horns were singing at one another, and laughing like conspirators. Some gnomish smoke machine pumped fog all over the stage, and a Highborne woman came in winding serpentine hips. She crooked a clawed finger at the one she wanted.

_Back then…_

On the first floor of a private treehouse apartment in Dalaran, three very sly people had their own private victory party. If Warchief Thrall could even be maneuvered, then there really was nothing left to stop the three of them.

Vashj set down Illidan's hookah and wet her lips. She got up slowly from the plush couch, but whether she was a green Naga now or Elven-looking, it was impossible for her to ever really appear non-threatening. Illidan saw her cross the room, towards Kael'thas.

"Do you look like Tyrande on purpose?" Illidan snorted laughter.

She snapped over her shoulder, "It's for Malfurion."

Illidan returned to puffing the pipe, foggy and bemused. The Demon's master looked out of the window, up at the temple gardens. Vashj squeezed his shoulders and rested her neat chin so that their cheeks touched. "Are you finally happy?"

Kael'thas had slipped an index finger into one near empty bottle of something exotic-smelling, and tapped that cheerfully along his thigh. Red robes rustled as he reached up to play with Vashj's delicate fingers. "Eversince you handed her the bottle of Shuru'kaal and pointed in my direction at the Black Temple, yes. Things could not have gone more perfectly."

Vashj smelled him. Kael'thas turned around.

"And look at you. Vashj, you are finally a true queen. My friend you also have everything, you could ever want."

Vashj hugged him tenderly. Kael'thas held her back. Illidan mouthed something, very carefully to his warlock Master.

Vashj hissed, "Illidan, I will kill you if you ruin thisss for me." Her hands roved lower.

"Um… what are you doing?"

"I'm just so happy, Kael'thas. Happy as you are. Look into my eyesss. Aren't they beautiful?"

"This is strange. Before, when you were a Naga, I could actually tear screaming away…" he kissed her cheek.

Illidan smiled wider, "This is original, unfettered Vashj, Kael'thas. Le Rishka. Though, you won't remember her name or anything else, once she's done. You're playing with fire."

"Am I?" but Kael'thas was lost in Vashj's gaze, asking her.

She moved up along his arms, felt the Blood Elf's neck. "Let's have sex."

Kael'thas took a sharp breath. "No, I really don't think so--"

"Fuck me right now, in front of Illidan, or I reverse the whole damned spell."

Illidan started laughing, but it wasn't funny.

"Vashj kept Kael'thas focused on her alone. "I'm sorry Kael'thas, did you think I was a kind person, or generous? On the floor, now."

Kael'thas fell over, and told himself it was the shock. It made him lie down without meaning to. But if he remained there, waited for her, then wasn't that also submissive? Vashj leaned over Kael'thas, kissed him.

"Sorry, my handsome Prince. That is what you will always be to me. But fairy tales aren't real. True love always comes, at a price."

What they began to do next, could never be undone. Especially not with Illidan paying such rapt attention. This was the dark result of their Triumvirate.

Saturna instantly hid from the window. Kael'thas… was having an affair? Another helpless peek--with Lady Vashj, of all people?! And what was Illidan doing, sitting and smoking, chuckling like he didn't care. How long had this been going on? Who initiated? As soon as Saturna thought it, she realized the truth. Kael'thas had been too strong in the past to ever give in to Vashj, and Vashj was far too clever not to have planned it. So then, they must have been in agreement.

She squeezed her eyes shut and added it all up, bit by bit. This was all too distressing. "He's scratching her back. Because she scratched his first? Too big of a secret for me to know, as secret as him cheating on me, with her! No, no. Stay calm. You've known for too long that he's been hiding something from you, girl. Yes, be focused. Pull on every power you must have… you always wanted out, didn't you?"

Well then, Kael'thas had just opened wide the door. Eventually, Vashj strolled out of the cottage, as if nothing had ever happened. Though, she didn't stop smiling. Saturna came from out of the trees and trespassed soon after. Kael'thas sat on the couch by himself, his drink trembled in unsteady hands. Illidan had been sent away, desummoned.

Saturna's heels clacked lightly as she crossed the room, took in all the trouble they caused to it, and how all that energy now rested within Kael'thas. She sat beside him and played at smoothing disheveled blonde hair.

"Starshine. I didn't expect--"

"Legally, you have now crossed a line that you can never get back across. I remember you told me something else like that once, at the Black Temple. About warlocks needing to be able to cross the line into oblivion and come back sometimes. Because it's necessary to have enough power to destroy everyone else's life, but your own."

Kael'thas took a drink, instead of answer. Saturna found a little joy for herself, imagining that the horror of having lain with Lady Vashj still blared across his vision.

"Because you are the one who cheated, and broken our marriage vows, under Silvermoon law you have two choices--"

Kael'thas spat it out, in surprise.

"One: grant me a divorce, and I take half of your kingdom. Because, knowing all that I do about you, any court would be glad to bury who they've long suspected to be a cheater, a liar, a lawbreaker! Or, allow me to remain away from your bed, as we've been doing since Icecrown. In fact, set up an entirely separate household for me, with rooms for Chao'thas too, when he visits, so that I might have peace from your antics once and for all."

He wiped his mouth with the back of a hand, eyes wild. "Are you _insane_! Just what do you assume happened here, Saturna?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot about the part where you try and convince me that I didn't see you spread Vashj's legs with your own two hands and then enter her again and again. In fact, I've never even seen you do such a thing before, being Saturna Whiteblade. My, oh my, I wonder what in the fel it is, when a man mounts a woman like that, like the world is going to end, and smiles about it! And don't you dare use the excuse that you were drunk or high, or an idiot!"

Kael'thas covered his face. "I had to do it, Saturna. Please, please, believe me. And the truth is, Vashj wanted me. She was going to get her way eventually. Perhaps I should have given in all those years ago, when she first offered me Shuru'kaal, and I went to enjoy her manipulative spell on someone else."

"Perhaps that reasoning works for you, Kael'thas Sunstrider, removes the guilt and obligation a man has to his wife or his son, or to himself--didn't you have any pride at all, any self-respect, than to have let Vashj take from you like that? You were fully in control, you didn't have to get so wasted, but yet, you did. And that is, in fact, what she depended upon after all these years. It's not that she's so high and mighty that we can't avoid being batted around Lady Vashj. You're a man with many addictions, and you've refused to quit them--not a one of them, and she trusted you to be that weak. You could have given her land, or money, or a room full of Kael'thas look-alikes, didn't you say something so asinine to me once, when I tried to get you away from Illidan the first time… Kael'thas, she told you to have sex with her, and then you chose to do it!"

Kael'thas didn't think he agreed. He felt Saturna should understand exactly why not, but as soon as he reached for the memory, he lost it, had nothing to compare his present misery to. Saturna was so confident in herself right now, that she gave no indication that she knew of the tragic event either, and so Kael'thas ended doubting himself.

"I'm… sorry."

"No, you're finished. I am going home right now, but you can do what you want. You are no longer my husband." she cried, slipped onyx ring off of her finger, then left the room.

_Today…_

When Saturna was done whispering her story over the strange performance on stage below them, she squeezed Blaize's hand. Three actors parted ways, and the one playing Kael'thas was left alone on stage. "But I was glad, Nate. I was proud of finally showing Kael'thas that I was his equal."

"And now…?"

An actor dressed as Kael'thas finished his solo on stage, and everyone rose to applaud. Saturna's representative, a broken-hearted Elf woman, slipped beyond the silver curtain.

"Blaize, all I succeeded at doing was hurt him. He seems to think keeping Vashj quiet was necessary, but how could I ever justify that?"

Blaize said, "It wasn't the betrayal that hurt you so much. You had already made up your mind to go, and you schemed to make your political move right then and there, when Kael'thas showed weakness. Saturna, I know you. You were upset that you could not trust the man that you loved, and when you watched Vashj press the dagger into his back, you came along afterward and twisted it."

She did not blink, all while the people cheered for the Kael'thas-actor on stage. "I liked doing that to him. He deserved it."

Blaize whispered into her ear, it was so loud around them. "But now you're sick with revenge, or justice. I suppose that is what a Bloodknight would call it. Now you just want your husband back."

Saturna cried and nodded. The two of them finally rose, to give their ovation too. Celestia smiled broadly at Blaize and that distracted him. His own wife was not clapping for Magnus or the performance at all. She cheered for him alone.

Chao'thas still sat with his feet up on the balcony railing. Celestia said to him, "What's wrong, you whipper-snapper? Didn't agree with what your father did to your mother? I rather liked his long, lonely, most of all guilty solo. For once in his life, Kael'thas got what was coming to him."

The young prince opened his mouth, astounded. No one was supposed to insult the Sunstriders like that, and one of their own had finally been the one to say it, after all these years.

Saturna took a fresh handkerchief and her son away together, for the duration of Intermission. Blaize felt too accomplished now, to just sit and enjoy the small victory. He offered to take a turn with Celestia around the theater, while the other guests also enjoyed the break in the show. She threw arms around him and agreed. "She's well in our sights, now. And when she gets back from Intermission, Blaize, go for the throat!"

"Erm, Celestia, may I ask you something? Back when we were ruling in Silvermoon, did Anasterian really come back from the dead and um… do his little trick with your… those?"

She slapped him, then grabbed Blaize by the shoulders. They could have been soldiers on the battlefield, the veteran shouting at the younger, traumatized man to get a grip. "Stay in it, Blaize, don't lose it now. Sometimes… horrible things happen. But we're both trying to overcome that, correct?"

"I just, it's that I worry. I read your diary entry after that letter Belorim sent. Is there something else you did to Anasterian to make him so angry, angry enough to strike at you from the afterlife? I don't want any more surprises as we go along, if I'm not allowed to read any more of that magic book."

She laughed it off, and turned back to the performance. For, the standing ovation was still going on. Blaize was starting to wonder if it was safe at all being her husband, as well as her conspirator.


	15. Oops Vashj did it again, Opus Part II

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Fifteen: The Magnus Opus, Part II**

**(Oops, Vashj did it again. She messed with your life. Won you in the game. Oh baby, baby. Oops Vashj did it again. Again for the first time. She's NOT that innocent!)**

Taking a turn around the theater immediately presented two problems. The second was more awful than the first: people could _see _them conspiring together. Blaize and Celestia had not anticipated that their happiness in public would alarm so many. It caused people to talk, and before long, there were patrons passing by their felicitous course two and three times, and after that, they came a fourth time, bringing friends. Everyone smiled and whispered at what they two could possibly be planning. The first problem was that strolling along during an Intermission enabled one to reflect on the performance itself. Though Blaize and Celestia tried, for some reason they could not remember any exact details of it.

"Well, I was having far too much fun watching you chat up Saturna, that must be it."

"I remember everything that she said to me, however. Oh, Celestia, are we normally so terrible to one another, for people to be staring now?"

"I suppose so."

"So then, people had expected us to get off the straight and narrow and do something criminal all along. They don't… suspect you to be Fel Louise, do they?"

She hushed him up. "They can't possibly. What they _can_ do is mind their own business. I am dressed well--"

"That you are."

"And I am enjoying the evening with my husband… for the moment. Cripes, it's Lady Novia. Turn around, turn around, turn around."

Novia got directly in their way. Blaize smiled as tightly as he could, and Celestia struggled to do her version as well, kissed the woman on both cheeks. They asked her about her evening, whether or not she was enjoying the show, and of course, Dannox too. Where was he at the moment?

"I find this opera to be dreadful. It's gaudy and self-serving. Magnus may not be in it, but his benefactor is."

"Hrm?"

"Kael'thas. Kael'thas paid him to trick you all onto the throne ten years ago, did he not?"

Celestia was more surprised to see Blaize already knew. So, he was still reading…

Novia went on, "And now all this foolishness. I never knew that Vashj pursued Kael'thas so ruthlessly. I have so much respect an honorable feelings towards her, but this isn't admirable for her at all! The Liberator, the ender of The Curse is the very cause of Saturna's estrangement from the King of Quel'thalas…? How can she have even had the time and energy, when she was already manipulating both Stormrage brothers…"

Blaize and Celestia blinked with surprise. Novia stopped mid-confession. She shook her head and started over. "No, perhaps you were too incensed with your husband as always, Celestia. Anyone who paid a good lick of attention to that performance would have hated it. I went to powder my nose before the Intermission crowds, and I come back to see every last sap in the audience clapping his head off. In fact," she unfolded the jacket in her arms and began to pull it on. "I'm going home, I've had enough of this foolishness. It must all be an act, that's what this is. An artist's interpretation of what the great Lady Vashj really did, which is to free an entire people!"

Blaize was glad that Dannox never came up. Celestia pressed the issue, however. He tried to gauge, from her expression, just how much she still hated him for the betrayal.

Novia glared at Blaize for a long time, then said only, "That pervert? I released him back to the wild where he belongs. I don't need a date to come to the opera, besides. It's a woman's glory to adorn herself and be _seen_. And I believe I've been seen and whispered at enough to last me a lifetime, good night."

Celestia marveled at all it must mean. "Are they--"

"Is that what Magnus put on stage, this business about Kael'thas and Vashj…"

"Hrm? No, it can't have been that, or I'd have remembered it. You must just be confusing it with whatever Saturna whispered to you. Is… that what she whispered to you?"

Blaize's mind wandered as she hoped against hope that the woman who'd fast become their enemy was finally falling. It seemed wrong, somehow. And what if… what if what he and Dannox had done affected Novia somehow? Blaize did not like Novia at all, but that kind of betrayal singed the heart. He remembered well how Kael'thas nearly destroyed him at the Black Temple, when he got his hands on Saturna. And now, years later, she was still in so much pain. It was hard not to wonder, what if? What if he'd never hurt like that? Suppose he'd found real love much earlier, and none of these terrible games… Celestia's head on his shoulder brought him out of that momentarily.

"Blaize, are you alright?"

"I was just thinking of how painful love is."

"Yes, I understand you. I do hope this opera has a happy ending."

"They rarely do. We have to make our own happiness, with what we have." then Blaize squinted down the grand hallway. The white chandeliers flickered which made his effort to know the scene drawing attention just now, even more difficult. Celestia announced that they should get back to their seats, that was the signal.

It was Dannox. He had come to the opera? The resounding slap of an angry date, onlookers enjoyed an audible gasp of sympathy. But it wasn't Novia bothering him, she'd gone home. Another beautiful woman strutted away, and with that the crowd cleared. Blaize was surprised to feel some relief, that his once friend had endured the worst of it, and Dannox still looked tough enough. Something was very wrong, however. Dannox wasn't laughing as he usually did, after a slight. The crowd did not know him as he did, Blaize flushed with shame. No. Why were they still friends after everything? It was not fair. That man had nearly destroyed him.

"Who is that woman with a baby in each arm? She won't stop chatting poor Dannox's ear off. What are you doing, Blaize! You can't go to him. Whatever scandal he's in the middle of now, such that Novia would even quit him, it's all his problem. Saturna is right up in our opera box, for gods' sakes! We're so close to forcing her back with Kael'thas and earning gratitude of banishment-ending proportions. Don't lose sight now."

Blaize looked down at the sleeve she clutched tight. He had not realized that he was leaving. "Something's wrong. It's only going to get worse. Dan needs my help."

Celestia held onto him, begged him. Blaize promised that he would settle it in moments and be back before the second act had scarcely started. "Or, maybe I just want to end things properly between us, like men."

"I did not realize you two had fought."

"No we haven't. Not like one man is due to beat another, after what he did. Then, I promise, I'll be right in."

"Not torn up and bleeding, what will Saturna think?"

"To hell with Saturna!"

Celestia placed both hands on Blaize's shoulders once more. Dannox was being shouted down by this other woman. He looked about, terrified, his suit torn. No one moved to help him. The lights dimmed, and he looked more of a pauper, on the verge of being forgotten.

"No, I didn't mean that. She's our ticket out of here. But Celestia, before we move up in the world, ascend, I need to finish this."

She squeezed his arms, let him know that she really needed him to come through even if he felt he had to do this, then fixed the sloping neckline of her dress and left.

Blaize's shoes struck hard on the slick black floor as he made his way over. Both little babies the woman carried as she harrassed Dannox had begun to cry. Blaize told himself that he would calm her down, and then ask her to let him hit Dannox on her behalf. Blaize could still do it. He cold knock the bastard out, for the good of mortals everywhere. Then, he'd feel like a man again. This wasn't about… it couldn't be about helping the dirty dog. It wasn't was it? No. Be a man, Blaize, hold it together…

"She bothering you?" Dammit!

Dannox rubbed fists over his eyes. He'd been crying? "General, stay away. It's just… this is Rachel."

"As opposed to Merry, Shine, Novia, and whomever else?"

Dannox smiled a little, but this Rachel woman stepped on his big foot. "Not funny! And who are you? Wait, I know you. General? General Blaize. You're the one Filthy went to go see. I hope you know that you broke up a happy home."

When she turned to him in the soft theater lantern light, that was when Blaize realized the little babies she carried in each arm had pointed elf ears. Their dark-skinned mother could not have leant such a violet sheen to their newborn skin, either. Blaize rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"These are my daughters. And Blaize, this is my wife."

"Your… WHAT?!"

"I know, I haven't been acting like it at all, that's part of why she's so upset with me. But sweetie, I had no idea you were even in town. Is Faltheriel here?"

"Wait… that bastard showed up at my apartment."

Blaize explained the previous day to both of them. Dannox went wild. "He hit you? Oh, holy Malfurion! Rachel, why did you come here, this was a mistake, a bad mistake. Go home, go home right now. Here, Blaize have you got any gold? Merry took mine. I only came to see Shine--she was spectacular, wasn't she? I knew that girl would make it… Oh, and about Rachel." Dan just could not help himself, and Rachel sighed about it. "I need to get her a cab, so they can go home. Don't you know it's too late to have them outside?"

So Dannox wanted his best friend, who he apparently tricked into sleeping with him, to pay for his wife's cab ride home, so that he could stay and finish watching his one-legged whore mistress continue to perform on stage--nevermind that his other date for the evening had already slapped Dannox and left. Blaize did not manage that mouthful in time, sadly, or he would have merited some kind of award. Or, maybe Dannox would be the one to get it?

Rachel said, "Pia and Dora are fine as long as they can sleep. You'd know that if you'd been around." Dannox got an arm around his wife, and before Blaize knew it, they were all standing outside of the theater, trying to hail a carriage from the street.

Strange that he said this mostly to Blaize, "I dumped Novia."

He was momentarily distracted from flagging down a carriage, and let one get by them. Rachel growled something at Dannox, and he stopped looking at Blaize so intensely. "You look good, General. Okay, okay, that's all I'm going to say, Rach."

"Better be. Here, taxi!" and she whistled very loudly without fingers to aid her, and did not wake the little girls, either. Something stopped, and Dannox ordered Blaize to get in first, and help her up. Though, Dannox locked all three of them inside and the thing was moving before Blaize could swear right, then remember he was in the presence of such young little children, and try not to.

"Dannox, Celestia is waiting for me."

"Just pay the driver when we get there, it's all I ask. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bum again. I only came to the opera for a free meal tonight and see Shine, but Merry left me."

Rachel sniped, "Who left you, again? I've lost track."

"…No one, Ma'am. Really, Rach? After all we've been through, I don't get not one kiss hello, I can't even grab a feel?" she kicked him, and Dannox bent in half. Blaize wasn't sure if he was so surprised that the man's professed wife had kicked him in the crotch, or if he was more surprised that nobody had tried to do it until now.

"What's wrong, Big Dan? I thought you liked it rough."

Then she cooed sweetly to a waking baby in her lap. Blaize had been asked to hold the second little one some time ago, or else he might have been tempted to defend Dannox. Or, was the baby just an excuse? Blaize did not want to answer that question for himself.

"Shit, Rach…" Dannox, strange as he was, found some laughter in the situation.

"By the Sun, she wasn't kidding. There are some things, Dannox, that a man is not supposed to enjoy." Blaize forced his distressed gaze out of the window. It began to rain.

The carriage stopped in a neighborhood Blaize had never been to before, beyond even the Legerdermain Lounge. One of those enchanted refurbished districts he'd only read about: the city could not possibly increase in side, being a floating fortress, Dalaran could not gain ground. However, some magisters had found a way to forge entire dimensions around corners, by manipulating lei lines in the city rock. It was an expensive undertaking, but the gold residents of these paradise mansions that could take up the fantastic space was well worth it. It took only a week for a team of mages to architect the process, once the city approved the plan. And then, the new home owners would do something like what their carriage was to now. Turn a narrow corner, find themselves in an impossible alleyway that would scare the Hawkstriders, driver would shout at them to go through it, and suddenly, an impressive park would open up. Autumn leaves falling, blue lanterns done in a Darnassian style would capture that even at this time of night, and three suitable urban mansions would dominate the circle. One building, on the East side, was sharp and fiendish looking, done in a Foresaken style. The north building was white and elegant, with blue painted towers, very Highborne. The last looked like a monstrous Human cottage done in such happy colors it was overpowering. Several cats mewed when their ride came to a stop, and Rachel carefully stepped out.

Beautiful, beautiful property, altogether. Blaize clamped his hand down hard on Dannox's shoulder. "Don't you even dare. Faltheriel is a wanted man, you can't be seen sniffing around here. And… if you are the other person mentioned in that silly Triangle article, the Dalaran Post has inspired city guard to look for you too. Dannox, face it. You're finished. You haven't got any money, no barrister will defend you if you dare take that chance."

Dannox watched his wife Rachel make her way all the way to the door, however. It wasn't locked. She just walked right in.

"But, Nathaniel, I don't like this…" lights went on in one room, and then another, and a third. The shadow of the woman could be seen, leaning over a bassinet. She was putting the babies down to sleep for the night. "Blaize, she's alone. Faltheriel isn't home."

"How can you possibly know that? That's a big house, they've got a staff, at least."

"Nope. I don't smell anyone else."

Night Elves could manage that far. But, it was still impressive that Dannox claimed to know the denizens of an entire house, through layers of brick wall, and plaster, and slate, hard stone.

"Dannox. I can put you up someplace for the night, but after that, we're done. You pushed me too far the other night, and I can't in good conscience… are you even listening to me?"

He wasn't. He said his daughters were crying in the house. Dannox pressed up tight against the door of the carriage, listening. It leaned dangerously. The driver wanted his gold, he wanted to get the fel out of there.

"Dannox, no."

"She needs my help. Blaize, you don't understand. I left on purpose to protect them. But, what if I only did more harm?"

"Doesn't matter. Dannox. Dan stop it. Down."

"I can't." he was on the verge of crying. Blaize saw now that all the laughing wasn't Dannox being silly, or apathetic to others' pain. Dannox saw joy in everything, he was very strong to persist at being happy, to be resilient in the worst of situations. For him to worry so much now, this was serious. "Where's Rachel, where's she gone? Upstairs? Why would she leave our girls downstairs alone, unless there was a problem?"

A scream. The Night Elf man tore out of the coach and sprinted into the house. Blaize felt the cool rush of night air press into his shirt collar, even, as he took off after his friend. Once inside, Dannox stopped by the babies' cradle. A good paternal snuffing, to make sure the danger he smelled was not anywhere near them, then Dannox went into his cat form and prowled around the room.

"But Rachel's upstairs!" Blaize reminded him.

Dannox flicked a tail in his direction, and Blaize shut his mouth. Then, the druid slinked upstairs by himself. Blaize was content to wait, until he realized Dannox was a healing druid and couldn't really do much if he did see anything amiss. The two men made their way down the main corridor on the second level. The house was so new none of the floorboards creaked. Blaize saw a fire-poker at a hearth in an empty room and got it. Dannox was far ahead by then, too late to whisper strategy. Oh, how he missed the obedient soldiers of his Sunfury days…

Light emanated from a room at the head of the hallway. Dannox must have slipped inside. Another scream. Blaize sprinted for it. Now yelling, Dannox surprised someone, they got to fighting. Blaize yelled too, and aimed…

Rachel had fallen over, because Dannox pounced into the bed, and was evidently trying to kill the intruder with… hugs and dry-humping? "Filthy!!!!!"

"Oh, why do I ever bother?" Blaize grumbled and threw away the fire-poker. "Dannox, I thought you said you couldn't smell him?"

"Because he was hiding from me, weren't you Filthy? What is this fel-lotion you've rubbed all over yourself, I think I like it." Dannox had never been so happy, as he was now, with his blonde lover in a headlock. Rough love, indeed.

Rachel explained that her screaming was due to Faltheriel's way of 'welcoming her home' whatever that meant. Though, if that was what the woman was into, it was no surprise that she ran right upstairs to get it. "Shall I… see to the poor children left downstairs, or will any of you?"

Rachel assured Blaize that she and Faltheriel had been parents long enough to know how to mind their twins, but then she left quickly to go check on their daughters in any case.

Dannox got under the covers with his lover, licked the side of his face like a real animal, squeezed him and went absolutely crazy, trying to eek as much love out of Faltheriel's reluctant reunion as possible. Faltheriel, or Filthy, as Dannox kept embarrassing him with the pet name, was only able to calm his partner when he announced that he'd sustained a lingering injury, from fighting Blaize and jumping through a window days earlier. It would be best if he didn't hold him too tightly.

"I love this man." Dan began to purr, as if that weren't already so painfully obvious. "And now I hear he jumped out of a fifth-story window for me. Are you alright? Is there anything I can fix?"

"Nothing you can't fix on my body." Faltheriel gave Dannox all of his attention for a moment's kiss, before returning politely to Blaize. "I apologize, for hitting you earlier. It's just that Rachel and I were both worried to death. I was on the verge of bringing him home, and then it seemed Dan didn't want us. But now, I can thank you, for bringing him home. It seems there was a great, great deal of miscommunication. I never expected this, after all these years. Dan, you're too good to me. If you stay that way, all is forgiven, I promise."

As if Dannox was some long, lost pet. That was exactly how Dannox sounded now, with all the odd manly purring. Blaize would have been absolutely touched by the strange twist if he hadn't noticed the fleet of carriages pulling around the circle, outside. Dalaran city guards tramped out of them, holding lanterns and shouting orders.

Faltheriel couldn't see it. The window was positioned just over the backboard of the bed. "Something wrong?"

Blaize remembered Celestia, Saturna, Chao'thas, everything then. "You have company coming… where is your back door?"

Faltheriel told him, and Blaize darted off. Dannox helped his husband to kneel on the bed and peer up out of the small window.

"Oh, Filthy. But I'm glad that I got to see you one last time, before they take us away. Though, seeing as we only have moments left--"

Faltheriel laughed hard and shoved his lover aside. "Oh you're a delight, always ready to do something raunchy. No, Dan. We're just getting started here, because warrarnt or no warrant, technically, they're trespassing on private property. And it doesn't get… any 'privater' than when a man's in _my_ house."

Dan gave his hug from behind, and made the dirty joke he was regularly due, at every possible moment he could find with the man he loved. "Here, help me downstairs, and then get Rachel someplace safe." Faltheriel threw off the covers. He'd been waiting for this moment, in a full set of Legion Ranger's armor. The deep fiendish green sent chills rippling beneath one's skin. Dannox helped him put on the final piece, a polished helmet with no opening for eyes, nose or mouth. His weapon was a fel whip that Faltheriel produced once outside, facing down their attackers alone. He cracked it in a blaring angry light-arc over their heads, as Blaize made his way back out of the enchanted neighborhood.

"You don't have to play nicely, you don't even have to like it…well, there isn't an ultimatum, really. Now who wants to die first?!"

Yes, these people were crazy. No, he wasn't sticking around to see more. But, Blaize did hope Celestia could forgive his absence, ontop of everything else. He found and hired out another cab, while jogging breathless in the dark streets of Dalaran, proper. They clattered along fast, and Blaize sprinted when they arrived at the opera house. Songstress' Hall was all rapt attention, for the final act. The woman playing a Naga version of Lady Vashj held up a golden cage before Kael'thas. She was at the end of her siren's song:

_A decade earlier, after Kael'thas left Icecrown and before the falling out in Darnassus…_

Kael'thas seethed, leaned on fists across a ruined slab of marble.

"Before you bite me..." Vashj flashed canines, "I am not the one who weaved the threadsss of that vision. Now that Arthas has pushed Saturna into making her wish, and Magnus reversed his 'fangirl spell'" she made a face, "what I showed you, was, in fact, your fate. No one can ssstop it from coming. Who I am, really, is a mere witch. I have tricksss to help us avoid unfortunate circumstancesss, and trapsss for those enemies unaware of my magic. I did not come all the way to the Black Temple to get back Malfurion, or even challenge Illidan and Tyrande. Believe it or not, after I saw what Arthasss had done to the fabric of our reality, in a dream, I came directly here, to find you."

Kael'thas had turned to Illidan, after Icecrown, and begged his Demon pet to take him someplace, anyplace else. He felt he could not return home or face anyone who depended on him. Vashj took Kael'thas' hand. "Dearessst selfish heart, If you agree, I have one last trick for you."

"No bottle of Shuru'kaal can save me, nor any collar either. Lady Vashj, it is time for you to die, before you... before you tell anyone else and tempt what little chance I may have."

"No, listen to me. I bring you hope. The watersss of Nazjatar are enchanted. Azshara designed them to withstand any more Sssunwell-sized disasters. If I delve beneath, at the appointed time tomorrow, then I can create an anomaly in the Unmaker'sss conjuring which will ensure Saturna Whiteblade--despite her most desssperate efforts--will not be able to leave you."

"Can you kill Arthas?"

Lady Vashj shut her eyes and swatted the air between them, as if there had been a gnat. "He is no longer in thisss realm of life, this game. I know that it is hard for you to understand, air breather, but regardless of what you believe, what isss, still is. Arthas has no affect here, nor will Jaina Proudmoore. All that I need is your consent, and of courssse, the catalyssst."

Kael'thas sat back down. "Tell me the price of everlasting love."

"I see that you did not say happiness. Good boy, you have learned. The fee for righting the wrong of thousandsss of lifetimes, closing the wound of addiction's dagger, first ssstabbed before Illidan himself tasted magic and broke a hot sssweat over it. Of course, I will need the last Sunstrider."

Kael'thas opened his mouth, then stopped. He cracked the knuckles of one hand instead. "Belorim carries the gift, though he is not a Sunstrider by blood."

"He is not your ssson, anyways."

"I love him."

"No, you do not. You loved him when you thought that he wasss your flesh-and-blood, truly your own. Now, you resssent him because he is truly Illidan's child. You resssent what Belorim means for you and Saturna, that Illidan raped her, and that crime hauntsss the woman. You two can never be. The child brought you back together after her death, but learning that he did not belong to you, but to Illidan, drove Sssaturna from you in life. She cannot escape the past. But, perhapsss… if I remake the future?"

"I don't know how Arthas learned the truth of Belorim's parentage, but it was surely the first thing he told Saturna, to keep her in that damned palace."

"Give Belorim to me."

Kael'thas covered his face.

"Then, all your foul connection to Illidan will be washed away. Had you consssidered that as well, Kael'thas? You and Illidan could truly be friends, this way, establish a happy partnership. The new Saturna would not have been violated by him, or murdered by him. She would not oppose even your fondness for the man and hisss incredible power. Trussst. I know the pain of being ssseparated from him."

"That's impossible. Illidan is far too entangled in my life."

"If a mortal brain can imagine another way for it to have been, then trust that fate can weave a thousand other like talesss, without hardly trying. My King." The slice pupils of her reptillian eyes flitted at every troubled breath Kael'thas took. Vashj's yellow irises expanded until finally, she had to shut them, in order to mask her wild joy. "Ask yourself..." she licked her lips, "Instead, you should be asking yourself why you have not already sssaid no, Kael'thas Sunstrider. If you truly loved the boy--"

"No."

"It is too late for that. Your heart, your will has already promised yes, yesss! Just... ssspeak it. Move your lips and bind it in words, blood pumping to muscles in your jaw, breath passed over your gills--"

"I haven't any gills."

"Nonsenssse! Whatever... Kael'thas, it must be a word, a physical effort, the ssspirit of want and need which I can recall and weave into my very last cruel spell, over a cage, and that pristine golden lock with no key--"

"You are not putting Belorim in a cage."

"I will be putting Illidan's ssson in a cage, an enchanted one that will prevent him escaping and allow him to breathe underwater. Don't you want him to breathe, Kael'thas? To live? And had you not consssidered that, without my aid in this, Belorim would surely die. Love him or hate him, the result of your inaction will be to kill him!"

"But Saturna will be the one to murder him, to undo him before he is even gotten--through rape. Through Illidan's rape... Of course Saturna would want to erase that."

"She is going to kill that boy in order to live. And thisss time, you cannot fawn over her and blame her passion for life--it is sheer stupidity in this sssituation, an irresponsible oversssight to have made--to forget that one's own son will be lost in the process of Unmaking."

Kael'thas rubbed an eye, they'd swollen and were tearing. But then, one by one, he pressed his trembling fingers together, arched them. "Illidan will be allowed... to raise his own son."

Vashj raised up, "Yesss..."

"And I will... I will finally have Saturna all to myself. It's not as if... It's not as if I will be lying to her. My memories will be erased too, in the process. But, what if she chooses Blaize instead this time?"

Vashj laughed hard. She coughed, and long red nails flew to cover the unsightly hacking. "This is Sssaturna Whiteblade we are talking about. I seriously doubt Magnus unmaking her will impede that silly impulssse to have royal cock--he merely expanded and exploded it many times over, but it was always there in the firssst place. That would be the little lie Arthas allowed her to believe, that she could ever be free of you or what you meant in her life."

"It's going to be terribly hard, Vashj. I will have to win her honestly this time around."

"Honessst? What's honest anymore? You'll tell your lies--fel, come right out and ask me to hand her the bottle of Shuru'kaal this time around. I know myself. Kael'thas, this is me, Vashj, telling you how to handle Vashj. Make it incredibly easy for me to get Saturna Whiteblade drunk and wedge her between Illidan and yourself, and I will most certainly help you. Again. Only thisss time..."

Kael'thas swiped a thumb across his lips. There was a grin forming, it looked painful. "Can you remind me?"

"You will remember all that we agreed, after the Ball. I will give the Shuru'kaal to her after we speak, and then I will have her sent directly to the Golden Shrine, to be with you. Blaize will not win Saturna. Let us do it right now. I will make a blood-oath to you on it, I ssswear."

Then, suddenly, "I can't."

"NO!!"

Kael'thas pushed up from the table and paced. "What do you want out of this? You have a trick, you always do. Years ago, you offered a collar to Illidan Stormrage. He put that around my neck but it backfired."

"Would you prefer, now, that it had not?"

"I am talking about ME and what I want! Vashj, this is far too easy... and I won't know until... there is too much left to chance."

"Love is but a chance." She went and stood before him. "Alright, then I will confess what is at ssstake, for me. Look at me, Kael'thas. I have grown old..." she snatched his hands and cried into them. "And I am ugly."

She was in such terrible pain to admit it at last. Kael'thas found he could not pull away.

"But it is not age which makesss a woman undesirable. For a long time now, I have charmed and fooled so many by my wits and with a winning energy... I am a temptress, one of Azshara's bessst, and a true seductress can work around any obstacle to get to the man or objective she wants, even if that hurdle is herself. I know thisss. I have lived by thissss. Kael'thas, sssweet, sweet, Kael'thas... I have gained everything and lost my dignity. They laugh at me now, not because I am old, but because I have proved incapable. Because the greatest prize and honor, the most incredible achievement of all, is to win true love."

"Bah!"

"You truly love Saturna Whiteblade, you can't live without her. And then, there are those who... might not call that sort of romance a love at all--" Vashj caught herself. "But, to the two of you, that wild carriage ride is lasting happiness. I do not have love. I have loved Illidan but he could never return that. But, at the end of my life, I find... there is another. Too late, though, he'sss out there fighting, to get that ssstupid Tyrande back!"

Kael'thas let go of Vashj's hands.

"You give me another chance at love Kael'thasss and you can have yours. This is a fair trade."

"Are you sure this is the only way for him to survive? I swear, if you hurt Belorim at all--"

"Do not pretend that hisss life is any of your concern, now that we have come this far in scheming. Kael'thas, I also want you to consssider how weak Illidan can be, because of his emotion. That is why Illidan allowed that perfect collar I gifted too much lead. And ssso, that control over you was rendered a waste. You, on the other hand, have proven, with time, to be far more ruthless. Sunstriders are more villainousss than Stormrages, sssurely." a laugh, "and ssso you won't regret this. Your sssatisfaction is not a promise I need to make to you, but a reality you only need accept about yourssself."

"I am a cruel and ssselfish bastard." Kael'thas chewed his thumbnail, showed teeth.

"And I adore you. Really, I want you to win. If it meansss I can sit in your presence as nicely as thisss, and gaze at you longer."

"If Saturna ever finds out... That won't be possible, will it? Even a memory of the real past will be robbed from her, replaced by the newer version."

Vashj turned from him and went back to her scrying orb. "Life just a game, Kael'thas. If we are going to live forever and, happily, then we'd better content ourselves to play forever. It is impossible to make up our own rules, but if we can bend them, modify them, hack and ssslash them apart, knit them back together again when They," she glanced skyward, "aren't looking... then it will feel like winning."

"Close to godhood. That is what Arthas called himself, in the end. Now, I understand his thinking."

"Indeed. So now, we both sound like that hated Arthasss. Give me your hand, good man, just like that." she rubbed her thumb into his palm. The teasing light circles she made caused Kael'thas to wince, "Oh, don't fret, they will be _hers_ soon enough. Now, sssay something that only Kael'thas would say, to fix it, and I shall say sssomething very Vashj. That should please both our ears and ease what little conscience we have left."

"Saturna, my Starshine... may we burn together. Forever. Vashj, I accept your terms."

Vashj blushed. "And I, male treasure, would like to eat from your very hand for finally sssiding with me, I truly love this alliance so much. Oh, how deliciousss! But that is alright. Where we are both going, I will never hunger for another man's hands again!"

Then Vashj pieced his hand with her red claw. Kael'thas braced himself against the table. Vashj screamed with wild joy, and that is when Illidan Stormrage came into the room. Kael'thas ordered him to disappear, and Vashj waited for Kael'thas to go to Silvermoon and come back with his first born son.

"The only evil queen is she who refuses to indulge her truessst, bessst power. And mine," Vashj went to look through the window, "Has alwaysss been ruining men. Come, come, blessed tomorrow! Oh, do come."

_Silver curtains drew closed and the scene ended._

Audience all stood, began to boo. The crime had been horrible, the price too high. Blaize couldn't believe it, either. And then, Magnus strutted across the stage, with his sparking golden wand. All his puppet-actors took their bows, and he took his turn. They were throwing things now, shouting murder at Kael'thas who wasn't there. Magnus raised from his gesture, sweeping hands out, then seized sound and pain in a fist over his head. The audience became still.

Blaize was too far out. He would always wonder at how, the few feet the ushers forced him to stand away from the worst of the worse seats when he'd come back to the opera late, made that precious difference. Slowly, Magnus opened one finger, and then another, before the still audience. When he was done, the clapping started. Then whistling and wild cheers, roses thrown on stage. Blaize concluded for himself that it had been the most horrifying, depressing tale ever set to music. But in the end, that didn't matter. And it also explained why Kael'thas was content to let Magnus tell whatever story he liked, before hundreds. The Unmaker was so powerful, that he could spell-bind an entire audience, as well as a cast of actors. That was the big performance of the night, not the horrifying story of how Kael'thas Sunstrider won back his Queen from Prince Arthas.

And somehow, that it was bared to the world, but no one knew of the deal, for Magnus' conjuring, moved Blaize so far that he did not wish to ever speak of it again. No one man should have that much power. And this was a man owned by the King of his country.

Celestia marched past Blaize on the street outside the theater later and almost refused to let Blaize into her carriage. She let him know that Queen Saturna never did come back from the Intermission. They'd missed their chance. She blamed his antics with Dannox, of course. Perhaps, if he had been nearby, then at least there would have been time to extract her from the Powder Room, tempt her with Blaize's kind words, once more. It was a slim chance, but Celestia depended upon it irrationally, more than anything else now. They went home, and he put himself on the couch, just to be safe. It proved the soundest decision. Celestia stayed up all night, crying, cussing and tossing on their old mattress.

Distressed by what she had been forced to forget? Or, troubled by what she knew was coming: their demise, over whatever she felt sure her latest husband had got up to with Dannox that was more important than their freedom from one another.


	16. Five Steps to Surviving Kael

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Sixteen: Five Steps to Surviving Kael'thas  
**

Blaize had witnessed horrors in Outland while serving under Kael'thas. He had a strategy for dealing with these sort of 'did my monarch just corrupt the very course of history?' revelations.

Step One: clarify the situation.

"Ten years ago…" Blaize whispered to himself while sitting up late, on his couch-bed, "Arthas kidnapped Queen Saturna, told her that Belorim was not Kael'thas' biological son and revealed to her that Magnus the Unmaker cast a spell on her long ago that changed her into a rabid fangirl. In doing so, Arthas convinced Saturna to wish that she had never fallen for Kael'thas. This… should have changed the course of history. However," and Blaize yawned, though he felt it strange to do something so casual when his eyes must have been ringed red, his hair scratched frantic and mussed up all over his scalp by now. The horror of it all, and the hour together were trying enough to worry a Yeti bald. "...instead, things stayed much the same. Kael'thas conspired with Lady Vashj, soon after, to create an anomaly that would force events to go much the way they had already. Saturna still ventured to the Black Temple. She and Kael'thas still had a son together, but this time, it was a biologically related child they named Chao'thas… They two still came together because this other person, this Belorim child had been taken down to Nazjatar, kept alive. And so certain conditions had to be met in order to make up for his continued existence in this life." Blaize tapped his clefted chin. "I am hardly following this… but Vashj's scheming did not stop there, ten years ago. Within months of her selling this witchcraft to Kael'thas, Vashj went down to Nazjatar, with Belorim, and also ended the Naga Curse while there. According to Celestia's diary, I also know that Vashj came back, looking like an Elven woman. She handed Belorim off to Illidan, but the boy had aged…"

Blaize rubbed his eyes. This was the part that made the least sense. "Belorim claims in front of the world that he is actually five years older than everyone else thinks. Well, however true it is doesn't matter. Life went on, regardless. Not long after Illidan and Tyrande adopted the boy, Warchief Thrall calls all the world leaders together to meet in Azeroth. Kael'thas and Illidan are rewarded for getting Arthas to peacably disappear, then Saturna catches Kael'thas partying more than a bit too hard over it all. Because, for some reason, Vashj--though she should have had everything in the world she could possibly want--she still felt the need to seduce Kael'thas, ontop of everything else."

In fact, according to his wife's diary, Vashj had spent two different lifetimes trying to seduce Kael'thas. Blaize shuddered.

Step Two: decide whether or not the situation affects you.

"Feh. Either way, I'm still banished."

Step Three: Choose a course of action.

Blaize thought for a very long time, tugging at his bottom lip. "The world has been unraveled, and put back together, so that Vashj can enjoy all of her little boy-toys," though he hated to consider how Illidan might still be involved, "and she possibly added years to her life, doing it. There is no way that woman could have gone down to Nazjatar, started a civil war, and overthrown Azshara, neatly over some summer vacation. No war I've ever seen works that well! She just could not have done it in time. Did Vashj somehow disrupt time itself, to get what she wanted done?"

The fel?

Blaize tried again. No, he was just tired. He was exhausted. And Celestia was furious with him, there was that too. "Between Vashj, Illidan and Kael'thas, someone, somewhere is lying… For the first time in history, the three of them are actually finally working well together, watching each other's backs. Therefore, from what I can see… there isn't a damned thing I actually can do, or care to do, to fix this. Especially when, after all this effort, Kael'thas still got himself into trouble over it. Well," a snorted, aristocratic laugh, "Not as much trouble as he would be in, if I exposed him... but in the end, I would still be banished."

Yes, yes, the banishment point was more than made. But Blaize did eventually allow himself to venture beyond that fixation. He realized that he was possibly the only person in the world, beyond that shifty Outland Triumvirate, who realized all that had occurred, with the help of Celestia's diary. Assuming the diary told the truth. And wasn't the duty of a General--deposed or not--to stand by his country, to fight the good fight…

"I'm old, and I'm going to bed."

Step Four: If all else fails, just follow orders.

Celestia was going to expect a well-rested husband tough enough to argue with in the morning anyways.

_Days passed…_

Darnassus was an interesting place to be, at the moment, after the debut of Magnus' tell-all opera. It seemed he intended there to be a few confused people who'd visited the powder room too early, or fell asleep during the parts when he mind-controlled the majority of the audience. These witnesses were meant to roam the world, feeling displaced and tortured by what they hoped could only have been artistic license with real events? There was no way that beloved Tyrande, brave Malfurion or reformed Kael'thas would possibly dare... or Illidan and Vashj ever get away with so much? And, surely, the present peaceful state of the world was all a good thing? It wasn't some gaudy painted over tarp meant to hide real, sickening dealings, the likes of which would make a Warchief cry if he knew!

Lady Novia went to Vashj, therefore, with this exhausting guilt on her mind.

"Tell me honestly, mentor. For, as you know, I worship you. I would be destroyed more if you did not answer me honestly, than if it were a terrible confession you felt I could not be entrusted with."

"One can't possibly be more dessstroyed, Novia." Vashj crossed her legs on the throne and played with a tiny golden baby rattle she took out of a box. Brand new, but for whom? Musicians, courtiers, all once green Naga from what Novia could tell, gently withdrew from the room. Vashj's slight change in mood could be felt. Eyes flashed yellow, reptilian. "A person either existsss or they don't. There is no imbetween."

"Did you, do all of this, destroy all of these lives, just to sleep with Kael'thas Sunstrider?"

Vashj set the toy down in her lap. "Oh, you're awful, I'm offended that you think sssuch a thing--"

"Yet, you have chosen not to answer me." Novia clawed fingers and dragged them over a tortured facial expression.

"It's far beyond anything like that, Novia. Why, my dear, do you think I would ever just ssstop there?"

Novia waited for more explanation.

"I am who I have always been, underneath this fine pink ssskin. Very, very good. Beautiful, playful, treacherousss… I thought that you'd be pleased. Now, did you come with what I asked you for?"

"I don't know if I should let you… how can a baby fix everything?"

"Not jussst any baby, dear. A baby that is pure druid. It will make Malfurion fight and quit Tyrande, finally and forever. I also refuse to ruin my figure over it."

"Him or her."

"Hrm?"

"A baby is not an it."

"When It is mine, I call It whatever I want. Here, why don't relax? I'll have them make you sssomething, it's clearly been a long journey from Dalaran. By the way, I am ssseverly disappointed that you lost hold of the United Elven Social Club. The world will not be made properly ready for when I reconcile Sssilvermoon and Darnassus."

Novia sat on the cool floor. "Silvermoon, too! But, how?"

"Let's just sssay… a part of me is hard at work there, too." and she laughed like a woman with no shame at all.

In Silvermoon…

Rishka, with the Highborne eyes, sat at the edge of Kael'thas' bed. Someone knocked on the door, then entered anyway.

"Oh. My lady, I did not realize you were in here? I was looking for--"

"Yes, I need Kael'thas desperately, too. I only just got my hands on him, you see. I was not able to finish anything, Advisor Sorn."

Sorn couldn't place why not, but he did not like Rishka. The urge to set the whole room on fire and send her screaming out of it, itched his palm. Oh, if Kael'thas had not already made that mistake with Saturna Whiteblade years ago! It might actually serve to put Rishka and Kael'thas closer together. Sort of… odd, happy memory.

"Lady Rishka, you haven't left this room in days. Are you sure that you don't want to go home and relax? Or at least have those old dinner plates removed, the sheets changed, a bath drawn for you, something? The Bloodknights are already on the case."

"Why do you not seem panicked, Chief Advisor Sorn? The King of our country might be missing, dead, or worssse."

"You have a very evil-sounding lisp about you--"

Rishka hunched her shoulders, ground teeth, and pointed a naked foot out in front of her. Her gentle, perfectly formed toes waggled seductive circles in the air. "Whatever Liadrin is doing for you, I can triple and quadruple it, right here. Now, tell me where you're hiding him!"

Sorn excused himself, he did not know how to continue speaking to Rishka without really setting the woman on fire, and went back down the hallway. The Knights of the Blood Nexus had left weeks before, for Ashenvale. Why hadn't they reported back yet? It was a lifetime ago that they were incompetent. Magnus' magic should have fixed that, the country been saved by now.

In Ashenvale…

Six Bloodknights set their weapons down, and backed away from their gold-armored chargers, hands high up in the air.

The Orgrimmar Wolf Riders enforced the ring of totems situated on drawn lines in every direction from the place where the Warchief was working.

Pyorin spoke for them, "We have a right--"

An Orc in black wolf-eared helmet said, "Exactly. We want to find out how you already knew Kael'thas Sunstrider would be here, and why, considering what that implies you know about how our world has been altered, you chose to come directly here first and hope Orgrimmar would be left in the darkness. You seven will be detained until Thrall is done investigating. Hey blondie, with the succubus. Get down!"

Magnus pulled his hair. "What?! But I was on tour, I got pulled off of a world-wide tour of the most incredible opera to have ever been produced, just to see about this! There can't be anymore delays. My investors will completely--"

Fennore went, "Oh, shaddup, you 'my unmaking spell is so much like Arthas raising a Deathknight, but I can do it without forfeiting my soul, so Kael'thas likes me best' Bloodknight-warlock hack wannabe!"

Several of the others stared at Fennore as he dismounted last. Mavia sat behind him on his flaming demon horse, done in twisted pieces of gold charger armor, where he forced them to fit over the spikes ripping out of the creature's sides. Magnus had a similar version, but his was a sexy black color, which probably also irritated Fennore to no end. He had been the first member of the Coven of Two, and now this. "Master Fennore, let us not get into this again. For, I am still full after eating the last minion Magnus sent at you." she narrowed glowing eyes.

Tempestraven began to place her axe and other weapons on the ground, when the Orcs demanded. "And I always thought her man-eating skill was an allusion something entirely different."

Then Daphne, "Mavia, you're not going to eat me, are you?"

"...I have considered it, Daphne the Weaver. Your power is considerable, and you can be vastly annoying with your constant pondering. But, you are lanky. Nor have you got under the sliver beneath my talons as much as Magnus the Unmaker. I resent Kael'thas ever bringing you into the Coven of Two--"

Sunthraze leaned forward. "Psst. Hey, Orc. Wanna buy some life-insurance policies? I won several of the rarest ever, the last time I was in Undermine."

Remarkably serious all of a sudden, "Do you have one for King Kael'thas Sunstrider?"

It was enough to shut them all up immediately. Pairs of eyes fixed on the humble tree house in purple-tinted sunbeam with longing.

The silence penetrated even inside the home. Warchief Thrall put a big green hand over Belorim's forearm, preventing the young Blood Elf from lunging out of his seat. Then, Thrall looked across the table and sneered at Kael'thas. Belorim's wife May was in the next room. Colorful threads of magical energy leapt from four totems in some complex weave of shamanistic conjuring. It caused her, now, to lift gently off of her hooves.

Thrall said, "You scum. Now we know that a long time ago, and it was, in fact, another lifetime ago, I gave you a second chance. I saw that you sacrificed for the greater good when it was necessary to decide what should be done about Illidan Stormrage. You chose to enslave him, and bear that greater temptation to do evil, alone, for the rest of your life. You were willing to risk the hurt of your wife, the outrage of your kingdom, to do this. But yet, Arthas comes along and destroys even this noble side of you, with one little game? No, I see now, that you did not change over night, to have gone from one extreme to another. You never did stop being selfish. Enslaving Illidan, at that time, was really about keeping Saturna--"

Belorim nodded, "I remember that Mother was a ghost, Illidan murdered her and made her that way!"

Thrall held fast to Belorim's arm, and kept speaking, "And you were but mortal, Kael'thas. You wanted to live forever, or at least as long as ghost could, in this realm. That was your real reason for enslaving Illidan Stormrage. And it is the same reason why, when Arthas provided the opportunity, you acted selfishly again. You abandoned this child--"

"I saved Belorim."

"You let your enemy raise him, entrap him, all for one woman. How can you even dare to rationalize that? You have black bile. You have a yellow liver. I should slice you open right now for us to see your innards at last and know it for sure!" Thrall bellowed.

Kael'thas took careful breaths, calculating between the two of them. "That is not how I see it at all. I did not plan this. It happened completely beyond my control. For reasons greater than a 'mere woman', Thrall, I made arrangements to confirm a deal on my wedding night. The plan was essential because I had been made aware that certain enemies already within the Sunfury were hoping to act against me soon. It was also the one night my Bloodknights would not try--not even make a half-witted try, to account for me. On our wedding night, I learned from Magnus the Unmaker why Saturna Whiteblade loved me so very much. Because at the start of her career, he had forced her to do it. I was disguised. Magnus boasted about it, as proof of his power. He had no idea what that confession meant to the person right in front of him. I was crushed. I thought Saturna... was the one, the one who I fought hard for and finally won. Through death, Saturna and I had even found one another, conquered trials... but our romance only occurred through the aid of a spell? Long ago, because Magnus wanted to get revenge on the rest of the Blood Nexus, he poisoned their Mother Whiteblade and managed to corrupt the entire line. That was the real reason my personal guardians were so incompetent. That was the real reason why Saturna loved me. And before even then, it took a great big bottle of Shuru'kaal, and before that, a scheme hatched by Lady Vashj... in truth, every woman that I ever loved had rejected me. The truth of my failure was crippling."

Belorim was still angry that Kael'thas would have gone so far, ruining a child's life only to satisfy an ego.

"Oh no, you are thinking like Prince Arthas now. Or, rather," Kael'thas looked from Thrall and back to Belorim, "you are thinking exactly as he intended you to. Do you both really think that it was Arthas' intention to step on my toes and break my heart? Feh, those are trifles." Kael'thas leaned an arm over his chair back and shifted weight casually, leaned up on two legs. "We were Princes together, rivals. My father effectively destroyed his father's kingdom, through choosing not to help during the Scourge conflict. Arthas has lost his family, his country, his reason to continue on as a good man. Too much. Arthas wasn't done getting revenge on Quel'thalas after the Sunwell was destroyed and the countryside ravaged. That was only the start of his little game. When I went to Outland, the key to finishing his quest, this 'screw over all of your friends' Achievement was stolen away from him: I was gone beyond his reach."

He let them think it over, then slammed down on all four chairlegs again. May made a little startled noise, from the next room. "Arthas wanted to destroy me and you, Belorim. He wanted to undo our very family line, in magic, in blood, whomever touched it. After I returned to Silvermoon and he still could not get to me, Saturna was already distressed enough in her state, and Arthas took advantage of that. She could not see that, in wishing to be Unmade--or, Re-Made in this case--Saturna was effectively asking Magnus to destroy her. And, Arthas was sure that Saturna's choice would end me too. It would have pushed me over the brink, and, perhaps Vashj was never really able to stop that from happening. Look at what I did to you, Belorim, to keep it all together. Imagine what I might have done to Lorth'remar one day, and Celestia was already banished... and there are some people in this life who blame my father's death on me, for refusing to come home from Dalaran when things were at their worst. Perhaps I am the one who inspired Arthas to take revenge through Saturna, in the end. He saw how I was still willing to use anyone, anywhere to get what I wanted, blood relation or no."

Thrall scowled, "Don't dare turn this into some self-effacing speech, Kael'thas. We don't feel sorry for you. Clearly, we can't ever risk feeling sorry for you again. The fact remains that, if you had the sense to consider Vashj's witchcraft an option, then you should have been able to stop, assess, and consider some other solution as well. What about your Anveena and the Sunwell... don't look so surprised, I am a Farseer, of course I know about those. Or, Kael'thas, you could have come to me. We were allies."

"Were? Are you so sure that you want to take back this version of Azeroth, or Outland, which are both based on one terrible decision I had to make? The two worlds are at peace. Was this not in your vision of things to come?"

"No, Kael'thas," Thrall shut his eyes, "It was a vision of the way I wished things could be. To a Farseer, there is a precious difference."

Kael'thas pointed at the center of table, "Belorim, hate me if you will, but I saved your life. And this Demon Lord who raised you, he was fully under my control, every second of every day of your young life. Now, did Illidan do anything horrific, that hurt or traumatized you, beyond what might come between a normal rebellious teenager, and his father?"

Belorim grabbed the horns jutting out of his head, out of frustration, but then gave up any of his scenarios. "I still think that life in the Sunspire, with Mom would have been better."

"It would have been a choice between growing up with Saturna--and myself--in Silvermoon, or coming up between Tyrande and Illidan--who is merely the other side of my soul, in Darnassus. That is, if there had been a choice at all. And as much as you hate me right now, whether I had acted in your best interest or not, you seen now that this is the kind of man I am. This is the kind of treachery I am capable of. I do whatever it takes, without blinking."

"I am still owed something! I suffered, I really suffered..." Belorim mourned.

Thrall swore underneath his breath. "I know that you are working on us Kael'thas, somehow... but, Belorim, he's right. I'm sorry, but he's right. You were born in an impossible situation, to begin with. Extreme measures were taken to protect you."

"But Illidan did terrible things to my Mother. We can't just go on as if--"

Kael'thas shook his head. "Belorim, son. Listen to me. Sometimes, heroes are dark."

Thrall added, "And selfish. Kael'thas, you're already seducing us with your logic, don't go so far as to call yourself a hero, or I will use this axe to cleave you in two."

Kael'thas leaned on another point, in that case, "As of today, Saturna has no knowledge that Illidan ever raped her or murdered her. I have already punished him for that, by making Illidan into, well, why sugar-coat it? He's my little bitch, I tell him what to do. I like it that way. He can't complain, either. Nor does Illidan know the sin he committed..."

May came into the room, carrying one of her green humming Earth totems under an arm. "You know, Kael'thas, if she wasn't your wife, I'm sure you'd also try to convince us that, on some level, since neither Illidan nor Saturna remember, and that vicious crime has no real consequences in this life, and since does not matter at all, theoretically, it doesn't exist. But, that, in itself, is our proof that we are only going to take so much of your bull-shitting tonight. Illidan Stormrage, did, in fact, do horrible things to Saturna Whiteblade. Whether or not it was in this life or the next does not make it any less painful. Especially when, it's not as if Illidan did not make the decision, this time around not to hurt the woman you love--woman you entrapped, I should say. It's more that, with Lady Vashj's help, the two of you never gave Illidan the opportunity. Let's say that, when she returned from the Maelstrom, Vashj remembered the very day and time of the betrayal. All Vashj would have to do is warn you to keep your lying ass inside the Black Temple right then, to make sure Illidan wasn't tempted too far. And so, unborn Chao'thas survives, and Saturna never dies, suffers, or becomes a ghost. But Illidan is still the monster who would dream up such abuse. And you are still the bigger monster who wanted to keep him around, in any case. Belorim, love, you had a hard go in life, that's for sure, but at least you didn't grow up with either raw version of Kael'thas or Illidan that would play these sorts of games while at the Black Temple. And now, of course, you belong to me. Thank you Bim, by the way, for going against my wishes and kidnapping your father, the King from Silvermoon."

"Sorry honey--"

Thrall sighed, "Look. We could discuss this into the ground, but I am going to save us all some time. Kael'thas is about to suggest that we don't blow his secret that he and Illidan and Vashj fixed things so that they would all win, in the end. And what I say to that is--"

"Only because Saturna would be unnecessarily hurt. Why should she be forced to remember? I have already taken sole responsibility for punishing Illidan over it, as well. Thrall, don't undermine my sacrifice by punishing him again, simply because you realized, today, that you don't like me. Now, I'm not going to claim such a victory, but there are people like Tyrande Whisperwind who admire what I've done with Illidan, might call him rehabilitated..."

May called it disgusting, then Thrall loudly asked the Tauren shaman what her conjuring had revealed.

"Thrall, I know that you wanted me to meditate and confirm all that Kael'thas was saying, but I never could reach the Farseers at Grommash Hold to open the channel. There is magical interference in Orgrimmar. That must also be why, when Belorim asked you to confirm who his mother was, you told him that it wasn't Saturna."

"How can I be off, I'm the Warchief. I'm Thrall."

Kael'thas had started to smile, but it wore off quickly, when he was in the hot-seat.

May went on, "That's just it. You're very good, Warchief, one of the best. I don't think it's your fault that you didn't sense it; the entire world must be off, somehow. Or, at least major parts of it. Every meditation I've done in this house has given a clear vision into the way of things. But I believe that is because we are in the heart of pristine Ashenvale. There are no major magical lei lines here to interfere with. So, there is a greater problem, beyond what the Outland Triumvirate has done. If you're willing to throw away world peace right this moment and see about it, I'd honestly follow your order. Maybe the Horde and Alliance getting along is an unnatural thing, if it would breed this kind of elemental disharmony."

Kael'thas asked quickly, "Is the Sunwell affected as well? It would explain why Anveena has not been able to restore it."

Thrall shrugged, "Pretty sure it has more to do with all that nasty warlock conjuring you put on Anasterian's skull, Kael'thas. May, Belorim, let's go."

Kael'thas wanted to know where. More than that, he wanted to know if this world he carefully arranged with the help of his friends, was about to come crashing down.

Thrall turned, "If I find out that what you or your evil friends did has any other critical effect on Azeroth or Outland, besides forging peace in those places, I am personally going to hunt you down, with all the shaman, wolf-riders, and good spirits I know, and kill you."

"But a shaman can't conjure from the afterlife--"

"Wanna bet? Come on, May and Belorim. We, and the rest of the Earthen Circle, now have another mystery to solve. If there truly is severe disharmony among the elements, then it can't wait."

_Today, in Dalaran..._

When the citizens of Dalaran learned that once conspirators with the Burning Legion had been allowed to set up in one of its best neighborhoods, and perhaps, being Dalaran, it was more that this swanky property was snatched up before being publicly advertised to investors--not that evil people had taken it... there was some civil unrest.

Therefore, it was hard for people like Faltheriel Darkweaver to go and get groceries, or for Rachel Darkweaver to fetch them on behalf their family instead, or for Dannox Darkweaver to receive hate mail within a reasonable time frame.

_Dear Dannox,_

_I have your daughter. You may think that you and your friends have won, that the United Elven Social Club can get along just fine without me, but you will see... my Mistress has a plan that will bring all the world to its heel. Then, oh, then, will I make you get down on your knees like the cheating dog you are. Then, when I'm done dunking you in a proper flea-bath, you will beg for my mercy. _

_I can't wait._

It was not signed, it had not been sealed, either--considering that their family was now certainly under surveillance--but it had, in fact been delivered to Dannox. The trouble, however, was figuring out who sent it, and why?

"Filthy, we have only two daughters, right?"

Faltheriel thought it was an odd question to ask. He continued to cut up his dinner with a fine knife and fork, on one night that was a lot less filled with pitchfork brandishing and torch-bearing, protesting commoners.

While a flaming bottle of something passed by the window and crashed behind the house into one of the anterior gardens, he answered, "Pia and Dora are the only sweet little angels we have, Danny. Rachel and I weren't quite that naughty while you were gone, though you're cute to worry. Aren't you going to finish your steak?"

Rachel had a plate of unwrapped chocolate bars all to herself, for some reason. She ate each one slowly, with an eerie calm to her movements. Beyond Rachel being a very strange sort of person, there were certain stresses that came from being married to two men, and then on top of that, two men such as they. So, oftentimes, she did not feel like talking, nor explaining, and they did not ask, either. People used to call her the Crazy Cat Lady for a reason, clearly.

Dannox looked at his food. He was a vegetarian. Faltheriel could not have forgotten that? Blaize always noticed though. Dannox missed the man he now realized had always been a good friend, or really, Blaize was just a mostly honest user and hanger-on, but Dannox was a bit too cheerful to imagine that far.

The fire in their garden came perilously close to the window. Rachel walked over to it, lifted it up, and then threw one leg over, hopping out into the night.

"Danny, once all this bad society clears, let's ask your friends over. Would you like that?"

Dannox realized that he would, in fact appreciate it. He might also be able to show Blaize the strange letter and see if he couldn't figure which one of his fly-by women might have sent it. It really wasn't something to ask one's husband or loving wife...

"IF YOU DON'T (bleep) GO AWAY RIGHT NOW I AM GOING TO RIP YOUR (bleep) INNARDS OUT OF YOUR EARS, YOU (bleep), THERE ARE BABIES SLEEPING IN THIS HOUSE, DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK FOR ME TO PUT THEM DOWN, I SWEAR TO THE CATHEDRAL IN STORMWIND, I WILL SMITE YOU (bleep) ALL TO DEATH, LIGHT SO HELP ME! NOW, PUT THAT (bleep) FIRE OUT!!!"

Several screeching stray cats were thrown into the crowd, to accent her speech. Then, Mrs. Rachel Darkweaver climbed back in through the window, and stood there smoothing her hair back into its ponytail for a few silent moments. Then, she told her two husbands that she was going to bed early, and if they (bleeping) touched her candy bars while she was away, or dared to touch her tonight, she was going to (bleep) the lot of them.

When she was gone, Dannox turned to Faltheriel, wide-eyed. "Is it bad that, now, more than ever, I want her to try it?"

Faltheriel went back to his meal, silverware catching softly in the candlelight. "Dannox, sweetheart, when I was in the Sunfury Army we had an extra rule for people as... prone to bruising as yourself--albeit, for you, it's mostly only in certain areas. But, if you can't follow orders, then at least do manage not to get killed. That would be Step Five."

"Do you know Step Five so well because you were often stuck following it, you raging pervert? I've seen the nasty little toys you keep in your closet, and it was probably even worse, back then."

Faltheriel pointed playfully with his dinner knife, paused to smile. It was frightful. "Dannox?"

"...Yes?"

"You're getting a beating tonight."

"Yes, Sir!"

Clearly, some people are made for one another. As for the rest of Dalaran, suffice it to say, after hearing a great many disturbing things come from the House of Darkweaver that night, the rabid crowd wisely decided to go and stay gone.

Poor Blaize and Celestia. The bad press had finally cleared, and so they were sent for, straight away, the next morning. Two worlds could only hope that Dannox would be focused enough by then to actually remember to ask his friend who wrote the letter. And, let's be honest, the way Dannox has been going this entire story, it's probably not going to happen. Poor, poor, worlds.


	17. A Second, Secret Plan

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Seventeen: A second, secret deal**

(This is a tiny update)

By the way...

Funny thing, what a so-called woman's touch can do to villainous fortresses. Tyrande Stormrage warmed her arms by a beautiful aqua cloth that tinted the putrid light of Shadowmoon Valley into something soothing. Pools of sea-foam green sunbeams washed across the swept floor of the Blackened Shrine. White couches stood out against all the obsidian stone, of that most sacrosanct part of the Black Temple. There was also a white worgen fur rug Illidan knew better than to complain about. He sat on his cold stone throne, the one thing Tyrande hadn't the heart to change about his personal quarters.

"Oscur'shalak, I'm worried about Belorim. He never writes, though he should. Ashenvale is so close to Darnassus, doesn't he have any questions about his heritage, for either of us?" then, Tyrande kissed her fingers, to warm them. Her eyes flitted anxiously as her rose shoulders sank. "Or, you'd think he'd have some objection over what I've done..."

"To Darnassus? Oh, Starshine, there's no shame in your leaving Darnassus. If you and Malfurion, or Vashj can't agree on what to do with the city, then it might as well belong to the people. And the Night Elves wanted the best priests and druids to remain on those sacred grounds."

"Do you know, Illidan, that I heard one of Vashj's ambassadors musing aloud the other day about putting the two places together? That's hideous."

She had been afraid to say it, so Illidan went there for her. "Do you mean putting Silvermoon and Darnassus together? I see. So, you feel there's something wrong with that."

"Silvermoon was named such for a reason. Our Moon Cult worshipped only the dark side of the celestial orb, and it's quite possible Dath'remar Sunstrider, the first, wanted anyone else who knew the history to become offended and stay away. Combining the magics of the primal rites given us by Cenarius, together with those so opposed with sacred nature energy that they would instead create a Sun Cult to safeguard it ever being used... a foolish and dangerous feat to force both sides to work together. Not to mention that Silvermoon and Darnassus, Blood Elves and we Night Elves have some of the bloodiest history--destroying the world over the Well of Eternity--Thrall may have united all the kingdoms of Azeroth in a peaceful confederacy, but those are two groups who should never be forced to drop their boundaries. I can see either side incensing old friends in the Alliance or Horde to prevent any clear union between Elves from happening, and then the whole of Azeroth would be divided up again. Nobody, unless they craved chaos, would try and force Night Elves, Blood Elves and Highborne to meld their cultures, it would result in obliteration of one or two of the three, anyone with a sense of how these things really work would see that."

"There is such a thing as the United Elven Alliance Social Club, dear heart. In Dalaran. Their intentions seem benign. Master Kael'thas never complains to me about them, through the Soul Link."

"Yes, I know. Vereesa and Sylvanas Windrunner set that up. They were inspired by Kael'thas reuniting them in order to take down Arthas... I still can't wrap my mind around how he sweet-talked both of them into it. But, that is how sisters are, I suppose. In any case, Illidan, an alliance--and this is how we Night Elves, the Humans, Dwarves, Gnomes and Draenei always envisioned the word--alliance is about a cohesive effort, not assimilation. Notice how none of us ever sacrificed much of our identities to achieve our goals. Vashj's ambassador from Coilfang spoke as if the two places would somehow become one place, the lei lines ripped up or something of that sort... I can't imagine how it could possibly happen, though. Maybe I worry too much, and this is all the result of my inability to really," she winced, gritted teeth, "and truly forgive Lady Vashj, for, well... aiding in the destruction of my home and," with voice very lowered now, "stealing my husband. But, Illidan, you're not saying that you like the sound of merging the two cities, are you?"

He also ground teeth into a fast smile, for her. "Good fences make good neighbors, is that your theory? Well then," he looked aside briefly, "I'm inclined to agree with you. Wife."

"Still... I'm tempted to keep an eye on Vashj after hearing something like that from one of her minions, even if it is a fluke of my imagination. The fact remains that she and I caused a civil war among the Night Elves. There is always a possibility that she or, myself, or anyone involved, really, might cause more trouble before long. There is a great deal of un-grabbed power off the coast of Ashenvale, it's very tempting, and we're only mortals. Secondly, whether Darnassus has been made neutral ground or not for the Kal'dorei, Vashj and I are the last of the Moon Cult, both eligible to claim the seat of High Priestess. With the power of Elune backing someone thus trained, most anything can get done."

"Civil war, did you say? No, Tyrande, that was a mere street-riot, a touch of civil unrest, nothing at all. It's the sort of thing one good Illidari Maneater can put down in three days, here at the Black Temple." Well, if he had any Maneaters left. Fennore the Immortal had stolen Illidan's last Demon petty officer and made her into his succubus pet.

Illidan patted his leg and Tyrande wandered back to his throne, swept white mooncloth skirt elegantly aside so that it would not wrinkle, then sat. "Oh, sometimes, Illidan, I worry. I'm sorry if I offended you, my love. Of course you care about what happens to Darnassus too. Here, I'll look on the bright side, from now on. We've had years of peace and they have brought some advantages." Tyrande tried hard to think of anything beyond her reunion with the man who now held her. "Your forces here have dwindled, along with any rogue regiments. Together with what the Shatar could do, and that inside job by their own Legion Ranger Faltheriel Darkweaver, it caused the Burning Legion presence in Outland to collapse on itself. Naga grateful for their curse being lifted... flock to swell Vashj's army in Coilfang." a pause. Tyrande tried once more, "Vashj _is_ married and settled down... to Malfurion. Well, she may still be a witch in my eyes, because of my feminine pride, but that has little foundation. She's wrapped him around her little finger, and that is her right, of course." a hug, "As you've bewitched me. Vashj has but to give Malfurion one good reason and, I know him too, he would rise up do anything for her... even take Darnassus back. We've seen them try, in the past. Oh, but they've been silent too long, I really doubt it. Unless... they've been silent so long, that it's now due. Illidan, I'll admit that I did hear another disturbing rumor, not that I am ungrateful to you for letting me adopt your Belorim, and I'm not still attached to Malfurion, far from it. But, Vashj is expecting a baby. It's not her who's pregnant, though, I know this for a fact! Her henchwoman, that Novia, recently showed up in Coilfang, and, from what I can gather, delivered a baby girl far ahead of time, pure druid--" then Illidan began to kiss Tyrande. Impatient and hungry at first, then slowed so that she could never match his passion. Savage, then tender again. Eager to lose her at every turn, like so many soft dreams of being chased by a horned buck through stripped winter forest. At last, Tyrande felt herself pinned against a naked tree and his heat, the only heat in that sparse world. Aroused by her own death, past reason.

Her husband, the so-called bad Stormrage brother said next, bowing horns over either of her shoulders, "Malfurion is not going to try for Darnassus again. I have shown him time and again in our family that I am the alpha."

Tyrande was still kissing him. Hard not to, after craving a man for thousands of years. "Mhrm, but Vashj...?"

"That was set in stone, when I claimed you. As for Vashj, he has her as much as she has him. That is how marriage works, Tyrande. There are vows, there is a bond. If you doubt what they have, the institution being the same, then it implies you doubt what we have. Do you doubt anything that I've gifted to you, Tyrande? What we both fought for, and waited so long to share with one another?"

"No, Illidan. Yes, I love you. Shut up now, Illidan. Shh... Mmm."

He slipped a talon beneath tender white strap of her robe, coiled round, a tease, then tugged fast. She cursed him. Chill sent Tyrande pressing against him, desperate not just for his way of wounding her, but also for warmth, his heat, survival.

Then, to settle it forever, "Tyrande, the war between the Stormrage brothers is over. I gave you the son you wanted, we've had all the fun of getting one ourselves in the meantime. You should be happy." He took her by the shoulders and growled, "Be happy, Tyrande."

"Yes, Oscur'shalak. With you, always."

Tyrande hastened her skirt up, above her hips. Illidan licked between her breasts, dewey with sweat. They seized each other, had one another, escaped away, again, to the forest. He had her seeing the white sky above. The dark lace of boughs jolting and wild as he bucked over her. Then Tyrande lashed out, took air, and she was plunged into the dirt. The soil was as warm and rich as his musk against her cheek. She clawed her fingers in, locked thighs and lifted buttocks. He pushed harder. Black soil smeared against the priestess' face and she moaned that she loved it.

All this, without them leaving Illidan's seat.

"I need you..." he sang in throaty whisper, and stroked Tyrande's ivy hair when the vision finished. Her eyes were stuck wide open, the silver irises flickered rapidly as what she alone saw bloomed in orgasm all across her body. "And so Vashj must get there, without you... Tyrande, Tyrande. My land for Tyrande."

Then, Illidan relaxed the strain in his thighs. Tyrande gave up in his arms. As he watched his wife sleep, Illidan felt sure his was the more priceless treasure, in Vashj's second exchange.

...In case you thought I forgot about the lovers in Shadowmoon.

Author's Note:

I posted this teeny update apart from ten more pages of story that are thematically distinct. Rather than confuse you as to why we begin with Tyrande and Illidan then end someplace completely different (or really, annoy myself about smushing two disjointed pieces together), I decided it would be better to simply pledge that another update will come soon. And another thing: it just occurred to me that it might be fun to do a holiday episode (as per MLFMP tradition) sometime in the next month. It would be a flashback to something hilarious I missed not being able to write, in MLFMP3. For more info, check the forum for this fanfic.

Can we say huzzah? Huzzah, baby.


	18. do do do do snap snap

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Eighteen: doo doo doo doo snap snap**

**Next on the MLFMP Channel, 'The Darkweaver Family' (snap snap). They're having orgies and they're creepy, Faltheriel's mysterious and sneaky, Dannox is spooky and Rachel's ooky, Dora and Pia are the only ones not cooky, in the Darweaver Family doo doo doo doo (snap snap).**

**All three of their houses are museums, you'd call child protective services if you ever see'em. It's a good thing their three parents love them, or else we'd probably go and shove them. Isn't there supposed to be a story? Oh, yeah right! I guess I'd better post it. Though rhyming makes me feel really toasty, and I miss those days when Saturna was a ghosty. I hope the reviewers don't try and roast me. What else rhymes with roasty? Hey, you, with the glasses, stop picking in your nosey. I put this in bold on purpose. I hope the corny joke was worth it. Alright, I'm all out of ideas... the Darkweaver Family, doo doo doo doo (snap snap).**

_So you see? It had to be a separate update. The same day, in Dalaran..._

Celestia had both arms wrapped around Blaize's arm as he inspected the anonymous letter sent to Dannox. Blaize puffed away at a fresh and expensive cigar, held the letter up to all the light on Faltheriel's porch. Why the porch, of the biggest house on Enchanted Avenue?

Because Celestia was still very afraid of going inside. Nothing she heard about Faltheriel Darkweaver these last few days sounded good, in any stretch of that word.

Faltheriel, in turn, was offended that Dannox's friends refused to enter their home, and had locked the three of them outside.

"So, who's it from?"

Blaize leaned back in a white chair. It creaked. All he had done was get up this morning and hope his old ex-friend would at least feed him, the debilitating Legion riots in Dalaran done. He set the letter down, shifted it a little to make sure such precious insight was truly right there, so close in reach. Now, and there hadn't been a free meal in it afterall, all the pieces came together. Blaize knew who was truly behind everything, what that meant for all their futures. Far worse than he could have ever imagined. It was too much to take in at once.

Celestia pressed, "Well?" And, can we--erm, I mean Dannox--make money off of it?

Blaize tapped ash from his cigar, into a tray on the table between them. "Novia sent this."

Dannox cursed himself. Celestia was a bit more intuitive. "So Novia and Dannox now have a daughter together? But then... how can Novia know the gender of the child? It's not been more than a month. Unless you know something that I don't, Blaize." To her subtle inquiry, Blaize feared to reveal anything more along that line of thought. "Well, Dannox, I'd put all the scruples we have left, on Novia lying about the whole damned thing."

Dannox took gold from his pocket and handed it to his old friend. "You two make a good team. Have you ever thought of taking this little detective show on the road? Whew, I was almost truly worried, but it isn't anything, afterall. Do you know that Faltheriel and Rach have been angels to me since I've returned? And how little I deserve it? And that they _will_ toss me out on my arse if they learn that I created a... F-A-M-I-L-Y with yet another psychotic person in this life? The three of us are in this love triangle, you see, we have a near-perfect arrangement, as long as each of us--"

Blaize cleared his throat loudly. "Dannox, I'm sorry, but that's not all of it."

Celestia shushed him. "Of course it is! We've been paid, don't you see it? There on the table. Gold. Real gold, and the rent is past due."

"Dear, would you like to go so far as biting the coins, to see if the money's real? That's really the only thing left to complete your view of us and what is--truly--a petty situation, considering! That, and some holes in my clothes."

She snatched a loose thread at Blaize's shoulder and ripped one.

Dannox went, "Ouch."

Blaize exhaled angrily through both nostrils. He began to explain how, according to other things he'd learned about certain people these last few weeks, it might just be possible to have a baby in less than nine months...

The front door opened and nearly slammed off its hinges.

"Another woman!" Went Mrs. Rachel Darkweaver.

Her Night Elf husband answered, "Yes, Celestia tends to be two times a woman, in fact. You know, it's been a while since I've hit on you Mrs. Blaize Sunstrider."

Rachel grasped the whole side of Dannox's face and shoved him hard so that he fell out of his chair. Then, she grabbed Celestia's hand and dashed inside.

Faltheriel greeted them with a stiff bow. "It seems, against my will, the Sunstriders have been invited to lunch."

_Seated before the biggest, flattest scrying orb anyone had ever before seen..._

Dannox, Faltheriel and Blaize propped their feet up on the glass coffee table, afraid to blink.

Their wives had disappeared too long ago. Now, they sat with trays on their laps and finished dinner plates. Remarkable images flashed before their eyes. People dancing, singing together, and even music raged through the glass.

Blaize said, "And... you say this is really happening, somewhere?"

Dannox really liked the device and was not capable of answering. Faltheriel said, "Oh, yes. Some people enjoy being seen. And so they set up their own flat scrying orbs to capture whatever entertainment they can get up to. Isn't it a marvel? Don't you wish they had this magical technology while at the Black Temple?"

"I would have hated to see all my soldiers glued to a set up like this one." Blaize leaned in closer though, "The Shatar would have marched in, hog-tied Illidan and put Kael'thas over their laps to spank before any of us realized the siege."

There was an uncomfortable pause, during which Faltheriel glanced fearfully up at his husband. "We um... well, Blaize you're a guest here so you don't know the only house rule. Aside from all angles and degrees of romantic sharing being equal--"

"Ugh, I did not need to know about that--"

"No one is _ever_ to mention the name of... erm, the King of Quel'thalas. I just, you know, don't want to relapse, or anything."

Blaize had opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped. Dannox snapped at them both to be quiet. A stout Dwarf Man appeared on the screen, standing in the rolling green fields of Nagrand. _"Welcome, my friends, to Nessingwary's Discovery Hour. Today, we shall follow the incredible drama of the brief but beautiful lives of endangered cobalt Talbuks..."_

"Oh, and the third rule would be to never _ever_ interrupt Dannox the druid care-bear during Nessingwary's Discovery Hour."

A violet hand suddenly clawed into Faltheriel's thigh, to make him go quiet, was enough to impress that truth on Blaize. It was the first time, through two years of knowing Dannox, seeing his friend become honestly violent. The dress shop incident came to mind, but the Night Elf man had laughed through the whole thing. He was not laughing now. Shove over, Elune! This Kal'dorei worshipped a new god...

Blaize feared to mention about his revelation now.

_Exactly one hour later, as Nessingwary had promised..._

The women returned to the living room. It really was a nice house. White fur carpets, polished black marble floor wherever it could be seen. Actually tasteful nudes in gold frames, chandeliers made from cut ruby glass... it was all done in a distinct style that nobody recognized, nor did Rachel and Dannox when they were congratulated on the careful effort of it all. Faltheriel anxiously revealed that the relaxed black erotic, bordering on edgy regal taste--like that of a bloodthirsty emperor, had been inspired by opulence he experienced among officers of the Burning Legion. The goal was to welcome the freshly conquered, but not enable them to get so comfortable that they forgot how villains delighted in artful murder.

"And, if you notice, there's a kind of reverse feng-shui." Faltheriel smiled, dark rings around his eyes somehow emphasized the whites as he became animated. Black painted nails flashed with every gesture, and he had definitely become used to sharpening his canine teeth over the years. "Couches over here, lots and lots metal, thick chains and all that. The energies just build up in guests, you know? It makes them go into a fitful rage if they don't sit exactly facing the host, in a position of worship."

Everyone, of course, hastily repositioned themselves. "I can't wait to throw parties in here, just imagine you all after several hours of drinking, gazing up at me from your knees, strained smiles and eyes bloodshot. It takes a long time to effect, which is unfortunate. I hear Kael'thas himself had a room like it in Tempest Keep when he almost joined the Legion, I was behind all that, by the way..."

"Faltheriel, you just said the K word. You have ten seconds..."

"Uh, well... let's just say that projecting the energies of Anasterian's skull made for excellent mood lighting, whenever he used his scrying orb in there. It comes naturally when you've tasted Kil'jaeden's power, you know? I was _so _jealous!"

"Time." said Dannox. Faltheriel snapped his mouth shut.

Rachel knocked back a glass of something. She seemed to be in a lighter mood. "Bloodshot eyes, achy knees and quivering lips? That already sounds like you and Dannox on a Saturday night."

"I _did_ say that I would baby-proof it, didn't I? Just after... well, I want to throw at least one party first, Rach."

Celestia sat on the floor, tickling their daughters. She sensed the need for a subject change when anger in the room caused flames at the tips of black candles in the chandeliers to spark. "How old are these little darlings?"

"Almost a year now."

"So then, and forgive me for observing this," Blaize knew his wife well enough, she did not want any forgiveness, she asked precisely by design, "but it sounds as if these beautiful girls were conceived scarcely before Dannox came to Dalaran? Didn't you know about them?"

"I'll make this easier on everyone." Dannox said, "I was being an asshole."

"Oh, how true," Rachel began to give Pia, who was a bit smaller, a tummy massage.

"And it's a nice, tight one too--"

Rachel glared at Faltheriel. She seemed to have her limits with the two men, afterall, and completely changed the subject. "What my husbands are having a difficult time getting around to--not that I blame how powerfully they love one another, I'm pleased they've made up--but we three did ask you here for a reason. General Blaize, if it weren't for you getting the courage to help Dan that night, when I ran out of the house half-cocked," Dannox started grinning again, but everyone in the room worked to ignore him, "…I might not have got home safely. I did find Dannox, but nearly at a cost. And Celestia, none of us looked very good. Dannox was roughed up pretty bad by his date, I had just thrown something on, we didn't look like people who could have lived on Enchanted Avenue. But, here we are."

She sat one of the babies in her lap. It was Dora, who needed help sleeping, unlike her sister. "And you all don't know what it's really like for us. We don't… that is… I need Dannox _and _I need Filthy. I'm not married to just one of them, I'm married to both of them. We've tried this in the past, and we don't get along so well, separated. It was all Faltheriel and I could do to stick together, for the girls, while we searched for Dannox. From the bottom of my heart, goodness, I really am going to cry, finally…"

Faltheriel knelt right beside his wife on the floor. "You cannot know how hard it was for us to find this brand of love. It's too good. It is absolutely necessary that we thank you Blaize and Celestia."

Dannox rubbed palms into his eyes. "I can't stand it anymore, we've eaten, shared drinks, kissed and made up, Faltheriel. Can we please just show them the house now?"

So, Faltheriel put Pia and Dora into their stroller, and the seven of them went out for a walk.

As the Darkweaver estate got away from them, and declined in the distance, it became frightfully clear that Dannox had not been speaking of touring the house they presently owned. Dannox stood on the doorstep of the Highborne-style house on the North side and twirled a set of keys around on his finger.

"Dan, don't look at me like that, unless you mean it." Blaize warned.

Faltheriel laughed that he was always telling Dannox the same thing. Dannox snapped his teeth at his lover, but then jiggled the keys in Blaize's face. "Yours."

Celestia screamed right then and there.

Her husband said, "A-Are you sure you can afford to do this?"

"We own this whole complex. At first, we were thinking that we'd each get a house, but that was silly." Rachel yawned. "Beyond what Faltheriel, um, earned over the years, which was considerable and in off-shore accounts--"

"Off-planet accounts."

"Riight… well, the Legion is hard to track down, really. But after our names were cleared, because of what I wrote, Shatthrath City owed us a great deal of reparation. Our names were dragged through the mud, when all Faltheriel was trying to do in the end was get out of the Legion. But he had to do it from the inside."

Faltheriel pointed to Dannox, "And how can we be blamed for each other's murders when we're both standing right here. Anyone can also see that we love one another."

"And very physically, too."

Both Faltheriel and Rachel went, "Down, Dannox."

Celestia corrected them, "I certainly don't judge you now, but someone in that scuffle _did _die, according to what I've read. Murder charges are never easy to hide from, for long... I've heard."

Rachel explained, "Yes, that was the villain who yanked Dannox off the street for ransom before we had that knock-down, drag-out fight. While Faltheriel and I armed ourselves and came up with a plan, that monster scared Dannox so bad that, even after we took care of him, and were all reunited, Danny was still convinced that he was putting our family in danger. So, we had a big fight trying to get him to stay. He left anyway. But now, Dan is back and our names are cleared. We're a family again, thank goodness. That's all that matters."

"But…" Celestia started up again, and Blaize jingled the house keys in her face this time. "Who, exactly, killed this terrifying villain, who could scare someone as sweet as Dannox?"

All three of them spoke up at once. They were as tight as gears jammed together in an old watch. Blaize decided that he liked their scheming very much. Perfect triad. Well, then Kael'thas, Illidan and Vashj came to mind and that proud feeling waned. "Shall we go in, Celestia, now that you've been satisfied?"

"Oh, she's hardly ever satisfied, from what I remember." Dannox purred as Celestia passed by him, on the way into the house. Rachel yanked on her husband's long ear, and Faltheriel pinched Dannox too, to get back for it. "Wait a sec, I never did actually sleep with Celestia, excuse me."

"Either way, I'm not above punching you again, Dannox. She's still my wife." Blaize assured. Dannox escorted his old friends through the rest of the house while Faltheriel and Rachel waited behind in the main room, kissing by the stroller.

"My, there certainly is a lot of that, isn't there, Dannox?"

"Hrm? Oh, the sex, do you mean. It's practically constant."

She hadn't asked as much, but Celestia wouldn't be asking any more. Well, one last little question, "So, do you all… I mean… I get the sense your wife gets overwhelmed."

Blaize pulled Celestia off into a room by themselves when Dannox started to describe every aspect of the 'free-for-all', in graphic detail.

"Celeste, don't encourage him. We're going to be neighbors now, and we're bound to get an understanding of too much of it before long."

"I just… it's _fascinating_. Mrs. Darkweaver didn't tell me everything, she went on and on about a lot of other things vexing her. But, don't you get excited about it, I mean, at all, Blaize? I'm sorry, of course you do, I forgot that you and Dannox were lovers."

"But I _told_ you already, I don't even remember it--"

She patted his cheek. "Here's a helpful secret: it makes me happy to think you were with Dannox, rather than anyone else, so we don't have to fight about it anymore."

"I swear that I don't even really think it happened!" They walked through that set of rooms and came back out into the hallway, where Dannox was still talking.

"…it only gets bad when Rachel prefers just one of us, for like a whole month. Then it's nothing but cock, cock, cock for me--hey, there you are. Where did you guys go?"

"We have modesty." Blaize informed Dannox. They all returned to the foyer, and Dannox took over hugging Rachel, for the moment.

Faltheriel asked, "Will it do? Or, I suppose you can have the Forsaken-style house. I truly like that one, myself, though, I guess to most it's a little spooky. Dora wouldn't stop crying, though Pia liked it, I think--"

Blaize and Celestia were more than understandably decided. It was several weeks before they felt they were set up properly and could have their friends over, for tea.

During that time, Blaize agonized over his world-breaking revelation, imbetween buying a new fitted wardrobe and getting all kinds of excellent things for the new house, of course. The vain man took his vain wife aside when it finally got to be too much and asked, "Before I get too carried away, with a worry of mine, I feel I should ask... I can still ask about your diary?"

"What do you mean? I'm not letting you read it, ever again."

"Is it really accurate? I've been thinking about a certain problem, but it's not an, um, problem at all if what I learned from the diary is false in any way."

She gave him an incredulous look. "I thought you already knew, from the make of it. Blaize, that book is a relic. It cannot be lost--for I tried to do so on a number of occasions, it cannot be destroyed, and nothing within can ever be erased. If I rip out a page, I can crumple it in my pocket or bury it, but that's it. Have you really never seen an object from the Azsharian era? Most high-profile households had at least one heirloom crafted with drops from the Well of Eternity."

Blaize gripped a railing alongside the winding staircase. They had been moving upstairs, after dinner. "Really? People still have such things! Well then, I'm surprised it's not all been rounded up and melted down to restore the Sunwell or something like that."

"But you see that's the point. Tables, chairs, underthings... nothing made with a droplet from the original Well of Eternity can be destroyed or transformed beyond its purpose. Gleaning the magic back out of such an object would be impossible. How is it that you didn't know? Weren't you of the landed gentry, like myself?"

"I... I was a step below that."

"Blaize, among the wealthy of the Anasterian era there was no real middle class. You either had land or a business in the city, or you were one of the rabble."

He took a breath. "Fine then, I was an orphan."

She gasped. It was hard to tell if she was being sarcastic or not. "The con to end all cons... and here, I thought I was getting a General. In truth, I married a man with no inheritance or real family name, whatsoever. Really, I should have expected it. Your last name does, in fact, sound made up."

"I thought it sounded cool, threw in an extra letter, even." Blaize paused with her at the top of the stairs. "I suppose it would be less dramatic, if I hadn't worked so hard my whole life to con so many people--alright, so mostly women--out of money, all with my charm and supposed good name."

"Your real name?"

"Nothing special. Nathaniel, that's all. It's what the orphan matron called me."

Celestia took his hand and played with his fingers. "Sometimes... it's good, if we are born hungry. We get even further in life. And you're still hungry now, aren't you?"

"Oddly, enough... I like this house, and I like our neighbors. I also love that Kael'thas is no longer in my life." No, except for Celestia's diary authenticating his every suspicion. For a fine moment, he'd forgotten.

"Blaize, please do me a favor. This is good for me too, almost perfect. I know that this rarely happens twice in life, getting into a wonderful situation with someone charming. Please, _please_, let's not do anything to upset it."

"I know, I feel the same way too, but there is something you have to know--"

"Well, is it going to end the world?"

"Quite possibly, yes."

Celestia became angry. "Will it rob us of what we have?"

"We're not really that important for it to, no, but everyone else... Just yesterday, it could have been us. The poor, the vulnerable, and those most directly involved. They are completely exposed to the problem."

"If you love me. If you care at all about what peace we might have after struggling for so long, and you, especially know what I mean. Look how far you came! Just, leave whatever this thing is, alone. General Nathaniel Blaize, you will find that, in life, if something cannot make you richer, more secure, or more powerful, than it is not worth worrying about. That is the blessing in being selfish; it's far easier to stay free of touching the howling masses. Now, good night."

It felt wrong.

_Later..._

The day to receive their friends as fully-fledged members of high society had finally arrived. Celestia and Blaize invited all their old friends from the United Elven Alliance Social Club, except for Novia of course. Big risk in doing that, but they now felt secure enough in their new situation, with Faltheriel funding them and all. As a maid poured for them all, Rachel was admonished for still not having a babysitter.

"Sweetheart, are you afraid to leave them alone? I hear that happens?" Celestia prided herself on having picked a woman-servant who might not cause Dannox any trouble. She was a very motherly sort who liked pinching his cheeks. Blaize worried aloud that it might still be too much, and so she left quietly after everyone was served.

"I don't know the first thing about setting up a house. We didn't have servants or anything coming up?"

"Reaaaaally?" Celestia became intensely interested right away. She was the sort who knew that being useful was a means to most vital ends. It could earn trust, it could foster respect, it could get favors…

People sat around little round tables all over the room, conversing in soft tones. Faltheriel was seated on the couch, between Dannox and Blaize on his other side, who relaxed in a chair. It caused Dannox to lean across Faltheriel to talk, "Are you two doing better? The last time we talked about it, you were under a lot of pressure to be in love with your own wife."

Faltheriel shut his eyes at Dannox's antics and sipped tea steadily. "Dan, you should leave the General alone, when it comes to these things."

"Eh, it's an old topic of ours, doesn't bother me."

"…So?"

"We're back to normal, but I don't want normal."

Dannox was sad to hear it. He leaned back on the sofa, and placed a hand on Faltheriel's leg. "Oh, look how distracted you've made him, General. His aim is off."

Dannox flashed a new smile, though Faltheriel was as cool as if he hadn't such dirty thoughts constantly racing through his mind, to be always saying these things about Dannox and to Dannox, and announcing it all before other people, for that matter. It wasn't yet clear whether Rachel felt left out, or if she was not being picked on because the woman had impressed upon the men, early on, that she had far different standards. But the two men in their love triangle were the same, really. Faltheriel had learned to be more covert about it, was all. He could make an blaring indecent proposal across the room, but keep his tone even, his body language poised or gentle, and not one soul would know how filthy he truly was, except for maybe the Sun and gods above themselves.

"Blaize, we wanted to wait until this thing with Novia is settled…"

"There's a thing with Novia?"

Faltheriel sneered, "I intend to discredit the bitch in every aspect of her life, for ever hurting my Dannox. You should hear the things she made him run around and do for her--"

Dannox whispered aggression, and Faltheriel stopped. Then, the Night Elf continued. "He has a right to be angry. But, in any case, we three can trust you now. We're going to be neighbors, and still friends, I hope? Especially after what I am about to convey to you."

Blaize heard his teacup clattering against its saucer and set it down. "I'm ready."

"You and I… we never slept together."

Blaize gripped the armrests of his chair.

"I only said that because if you related any part of your night to Celestia, she'd be shrewd and put everything together. Lady Novia is an agent of Vashj's and she was sent here for a specific purpose. Sadly, now there are things I don't even care to know anymore about, regarding Kael'thas, or Vashj, or Illidan even. Novia was sloppy, she said too much at times. I didn't want her to get a stranglehold on you like she did with me. I had no hope Blaize. None. But I promise, that after I what I did to you, it wasn't the same between her and I. I was ripped up inside… despite everything, I dumped her. Had a big fight, got my stuff thrown into the street, the whole bit. I wanted her to know how she'd messed up, and I wanted her to look foolish for hurting me and my friends. I wanted people to talk. That was the only small revenge I could take… but know that I didn't say anything about you. What… didn't happen between us is no one else's business."

Blaize checked a look at Celestia across the room. She was already watching him, though she could not have heard.

"Blaize," Dannox went on, lowering his voice beneath the level of general conversation in the room, "I think she may have also put a hit on me."

"By the Sun! Are you safe, Dan?"

Faltheriel leaned over and nuzzled his straight nose into Dannox's violet cheek. "He's all locked up tight and safe now, thanks to you. No one is going to mess with an ex Legion Ranger. Especially not the one who reputedly took down the last vestiges of the Legion in Outland, singlehandedly. Also, I leaked a good deal of information to the presses last week. Those were the preparations, the big plans I had for Dannox, that I mentioned when I visited your apartment all that long ago. I suspected what was going on, and Rachel and I were laying low, trying to get every piece of dirt we could on Novia, in order to free Dannox. Not many people realize this yet, because Lady Novia could not have made it known, but we're certain that she's fled Dalaran."

"Really!"

"Oh yes. I am determined to set down roots in this city, for my family and for my girls… I won't have some bitter hag running around, threatening my Dannox, we need him. Sometimes, that's the way life is in the ocean… little fish get eaten… she just messed with the wrong, bigger bitch." Faltheriel laughed and smiled over a final sip of tea.

"Tell her." Dannox insisted. "After we go home, tell Celestia the truth. Blame it all on me, if you need to. That might be the edge you need."

Faltheriel rubbed his man's back, and then left for the door. As he walked, he took his strange dark aura with him. The room hushed. Pressure in the room could be felt, as if a predator stalked among them. Soon, all eyes came to rest upon the once Legion Ranger waiting by the door. What did he want? People were on the edge of his seats, he smiled so fiendishly.

"There is not a virgin in this room." Faltheriel announced. The women gasped, some with embarrassment. The men laughed hard. "And, here is another tidbit..." he paced through some people, then folded arms across his back. Sharp, black suit. "Everyone, in this group, has got the same ancestor."

"But we're not related at all!" it was a group of Night Elves and Highborne.

"I know, but the great-great-great-great... etcetera, grandfather person was a _real _tom-cat, before the Well of Eternity fell apart. He singlehandedly--well, not that, literally--fathered a good many people. And as for the rest of you in this room... you've all got the same great great great grandmother!" More chuckling. Now, he came to his wife, Rachel. "Hrm, and this person, the only Human here, my wife... will not be sleeping with me tonight."

"Hey, he _is _psychic." Rachel laughed, and took the hand he offered. "But, here's one other thing he can't possibly know. I won't be sleeping with that man over there, either." she pointed to where her other husband was sitting. Their living situation was rumored all over the city, but those who still did not know learned of it now, when they turned and asked their neighbors for the meaning of the punchline. In time, the guests just burst into joyous belly-laughter.

"Nice trick," Blaize whispered to Dannox.

Dannox huffed. "Yeah, he's showing off. Faltheriel desperately wants to buy more friends, and lucky for us, the entire United Elven Social Club is in this room."

The three Darkweavers and their children left. Celestia was sorry to see them go so suddenly, but she sensed Blaize had the answer. The rest of the party was gone within the hour.

"Yes?"

"I haven't even said anything yet."

"But you want to, I know that look."

Some more arguing, they were prone to do so.

"It doesn't matter, I know what you're going to say! Lady Vashj, Kael'thas and Illidan are scheming together. Which is fine, I'm glad that it's something to use... but unless we'd like to unravel the peace of two worlds, it does nothing for us."

"...You know?" Blaize blinked.

"I figured it out at the opera. Admittedly, I... fell asleep towards the end of the second act, but eventually, I remembered."

"Well, there's more than even that. I put the pieces together only a little while ago. Novia's letter to Dannox solidified my suspicions about how Vashj could have taken Nazjatar for herself after only a summer, and Dannox's baby daughter born in under a month."

"Hrm? What are they all, secret agents of Nozdormu and the Bronze Dragonflight? Don't think I didn't already hear talk of that crazy story Illidan Stormrage told Kael'thas once. Ha-ha, very funny, Blaize. Just face the truth: Vashj is a capable commander, always has been, moreso than yourself, so of course she could take Nazjatar so easily. And Novia was born a liar. You remember the hoops she had us jumping through, before the United Elven Social Club practically folded, because of her antics. Come now, our luck has changed, let's just enjoy it until the next scheme comes to us."

"Before you argued with me, and got me on a subject I had no intention of getting on, I was going to tell you something entirely different, Celestia."

Do you still hate me? Because if so, then what I have to say won't make a difference. And in that case, I'd rather not unburden myself of something so embarrassing, and tiresome already for us. Nor, am I a young enough man to assume such a revelation would just fix everything, when I've already hurt you enough. And, so yes, I'm thrown off by that Faltheriel comment. He stalked Kael'thas for years, you know."

Celestia smiled at his joke, but that faded. "We are friends, beneath it all, aren't we Blaize?"

"Yes, absolutely."

She thought some more. "I would not like to lose that, again. When we get to fighting, we really do fight too much."

He nodded, though it was hard to just stay quiet and let her sort it out.

"And I also suppose that it wouldn't suit to lie to you either, about my opinion. I mean, it _may_ serve… but if I hurt you like that, then that's worse. Better to be honest about having no future; we've worked very well on our schemes in the past, with that reality looming over us. I find that it is when we care, when we try to love, that we have our greatest difficulty."

"Love isn't easy though, Celestia. And we are two very vain people. Neither of us wants to give up anything. Nor does it escape me that this new lifestyle is making it a lot easier to live with you."

"And I you. It's our penchant, it's our weakness… pitiful us."

Hardly, not the way they lived. But at least, Blaize and Celestia could now see how it was possible to be wealthy and pitiful at the same time.

"Nate, I have no idea how well it could go, between us. I'd be a fool not to try."

"Are you being serious?"

She laughed, "It really can't get much worse than what we've already seen. And I don't blame you for sleeping with Dannox." She bit her knuckle. "I feel sure I can get past that, with time. Though it dealt a nasty blow to my confidence."

He kissed her, "That's just it. I never did. I swear that I am not lying to you. Faltheriel, Dannox and I just discussed it. It's something he made up, because of Novia. He was trying to protect both of us… if I said that Dannox made me sleep with him--"

"Then I would immediately know that wasn't true, when you would never approach a man like that!" she got angry. "That mynx, she knew exactly how to work me. And you too, she played into your pride. Our silence was necessary to the survival of his family, I take it?"

She had it exactly. Celestia smiled when she saw it in Blaize's eyes. "So then, you never, ever cheated on me?"

"If I am going to be completely honest, over the last ten years I certainly got up to something else, we were too angry with one another."

"As did I." she said.

"But not since we started to get along again. I knew it might be something. I stayed as true as I dared."

She gasped and hugged him close. "No one has ever been so good to me. Why did I meet you so _late_ in life, Nathaniel Blaize?"

They went for a walk. She spent the entire time, watching him with new feline eyes, admiring how he moved, lagging behind on purpose to get a sense of his new energy as a free man, of his humor, his passion for things she never bothered to notice before. They strolled all over, smiling and laughing together.

Finally, Celestia allowed herself to be kissed, by a tree behind their house. The city walls of Dalaran were a few yards off, beyond a very artificial glittering brook, that could have never wandered there naturally.

"I knew you were done in, when you gave me that silly candy bar."

"Earlier than even that."

"Really?"

"It was at the Solar Festival. I was so jealous of you with Dannox, I really was. And you'll never believe me, I swear it wasn't just the dress. It was your plan to make things better, that you'd hoped, it was arguing with you and then seeing it actually work, it was that idiot Prince Chao'thas asking me if I wanted to go back to Silvermoon by way of seducing his mother… I didn't want that. I wanted to spend the evening with you. Haha, I was done for, and I knew it. But you didn't see me, and I buried it."

She whispered against his ear. "I can tell you exactly what to do with it now."

Then, they walked back to the house, hand in hand.

Queen Saturna stood on their doorstep, holding a bloodied katana sword. Angrier than a hellcat in the Molten Core.

"General Nathaniel Blaize."

"Yes?"

"You are going to tell me, right now, what I'm to do."

Celestia hid behind Blaize "Oh, my! What _have _you done to him?!"

"I took revenge on that lying, cheating Sunstrider bastard, once and for all, is what I did. I have you two to thank."

Blaize growled. "I NEVER told you to do something like that to the King of Quel'thalas."

"And I never..." Saturna cried, "covered up something so awful before. The whole kingdom knows I'm here, that I've been speaking with you two, and that Kael'thas hated for me to come. Please, please... help me, or we're all finished!"

Author's Note:

Sometimes I think to myself, 'Where else will I EVER be able to start a chapter like that?' And the rest, folks, isn't history. Also, Faltheriel is so cute. I just adore writing about his eccentricities.


	19. When Helping Saturna Hurts

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Nineteen: When Helping Saturna Hurts  
**

_Dearest diary,_

_When Saturna showed up on our doorstep and presented the bloodied blade to us, Blaize and I did not know how to approach the crazed woman. At first, only Blaize did, in fact. I stayed a safe distance away._

"Saturna, don't you think you should... perhaps put down the katana sword?"

"Can you put down _your_ habit of using that holier-than-thou ex-husband tone with me? I'm a friggin' Bloodknight Blaize, I know what I'm doing. This is me... threatening the two of you... to help me fix this scheme you put me up to!"

_She had found Kael'thas in Ashenvale, no doubt. Blaize and I determined when we locked conspiratorial gaze, that at least it would not be necessary to cover up a crime scene in Dalaran City. For the moment, we invited Saturna to stay within our home. Well, after it was confirmed nobody saw her slip inside the dimensional rift that is Enchanted Avenue._

_Oh, but if only it could have remained something as simple as harboring a murderer the Dalaran guard were searching for. Another thing occurred in short order, to complicate our position--especially mine-- still further. The next day, Faltheriel and Dannox visited. Rachel was back at the Darkweaver home acquainting a newly hired staff with the duties of caring for two twin girls and running an entire household. Lovely, that at least one of them listens._

I find Faltheriel to be so dashing, by the way. "Celestia, I've brought Dannox for moral support because I have an exceptional idea. You're the best one to ask, the only friend we really have in the know--sorry Blaize, but you're sort of her side kick, hanging on, aren't you? Mrs. Sunstrider-Blaize, I'd like to join the United Elven Alliance Social Club." Dannox squeezed Faltheriel's hand a bit harder, "Okay, so no, that was a lie. I want to fund it--no--I want to, that is I need to run it. They're all disheartened after Novia's leaving, which I caused, not that I feel bad for making it impossible for her to stay in Dalaran, it's just that we need more friends here, it's essential that I get back into proper society, for my family. I need, and you need, we all might as well need together... So, what's the going price, in your opinion?"

_I must have truly scowled, because Blaize stood up suddenly, said I'd come down with something, and asked them to leave._

I shook my head. "No, no. It's just that, well, Faltheriel, I've long had my own designs on running the club. Novia was always in the way. I tried to seduce Dannox... but it paid off in breaking them up a little too late--sorry, Dannox."

He went, "Woah."

I quickly mended conversation, "But no one would elect me now, Faltheriel, not with all the money you can contribute to it."

"Oh, haha, but I don't want us to be rivals..."

_So he said. But I felt it! The cruel twist of a dagger, my dreams all broken. I've had a plan all along you see, beyond scrounging money to bribe an errand man to deliver Fel Louise's letters, then shoving Novia out of the way. It went further than allowing Blaize to fall back in love with me. I've never dared to write it, however. Until now._

"Faltheriel, desperation drives me to be completely frank with you in this moment. I hope you can forgive me."

"Why, go right ahead."

"The day I let someone as shady and repulsive as you get his hands on _my _nestegg is the day that I--"

"Celestia!"

In contrast to Blaize, Dannox withdrew a little in demeanor, perhaps hoping to see his lover and the only woman in the room start tearing each other's clothes off. Honestly, sometimes it's possible to see right through that pervy Night Elf!

Faltheriel and I stood together, nose to nose. Both of us so close to another dangerous fantasy of Dannox's, to be sure. He growled, "Is there no room for compromise? I thought we were equals in standing, considering your banishment, and certainly in character, too, when everybody these days knows about how dangerously you and Anasterian fought. Or, will I be forced to pass judgment on your usefulness as my neighbor, here and now?"

A servant intruded then. I heard some whispering to my Blaize about the 'woman downstairs breaking furniture.' Immediately after, I scarcely heard Saturna screeching too. It caused me to relent. It was foolish to allow my temper to get that far away from me anyways. At times, I forget how being Queen, two times now, has affected my perception of what fate will and will not yield to me.

So, I said, "It has always been my wish to return to Quel'thalas what it lost when Anasterian... I mean to say, when the Convocation of Silvermoon being disbanded all that long ago truly hurt our kingdom. And Kael'thas' latest batch of sycophants is no help, either. I would like to see the Ghostlands restored so that the landed gentry may return. Only nobility with real, tangible wealth could ever keep Kael'thas in check, ensure that the people receive what they are owed. These sorts of rich people would find a way into office, and get the foolish lapdogs of Kael'thas out. King and country in perfect check-and-balance. We can work together on that, if you see what I do, about how the United Elven Alliance Social Club may be able to effect such a change. Faltheriel, do you disagree that Kael'thas, though a necessary fixture, cannot be trusted?"

Dannox answered for Faltheriel, who was twitching. "He's not allowed to say the K-word, as you know, but Filthy agrees. I hear him screaming in his sleep sometimes about how Kael'thas wronged him, so I _know_ he agrees."

Faltheriel thanked his lover and sat back down beside him. Blaize kept gesturing that we needed to wrap things up, so I made our next dangerous deal, quick.

"Good. Though, Faltheriel, the sad truth in my previous outburst is that, while I may honestly like you when you aren't frightening, other people in the social club--people everywhere, really--don't see you as normal. Nothing about you is regular or conservative. You're settled down with a family, for instance, but it's being done in the..." a quick, hesitant look at purring Dannox "most unconventional way. You can buy us up, they'd love that, but it wouldn't be enough. You can't ever lead us... I, however, have the perfect sort of settled and classic, obnoxious regal energy for it."

Dannox had been the previous Vice-President. I believe that is why Faltheriel wondered, "Would I have to be your stooge?"

"If you believe that is what a Vice President is? Do whatever you want to in the position."

Dannox whispered into Faltheriel's ear, as he thought it over. "That means I get to handle every last detail, running wild errands, while you play figurehead. It's the most thankless job in politics, ever."

Blaize gripped the doorknob, when shrieking suddenly carried through the house. _Hurry up, woman!_ And that look wasn't being forced upon me, but across the room at the other blonde, now rosy-cheeked...

"I'll take it! Think of all that I could do with it, Celestia. And Dannox can guide me, should I get lost. Oh, how I love torturing other people..."

Dannox twined their fingers together. "And myself, especially. You know, I think I like how this all settled up, afterall. Vice-President Filthy. " a stolen kiss, "My man is already a sadistic taskmaster." now a second, more inspired smooch, "Thanks a million Celestia, and you too, General. Now then, if you'll excuse us, it's time to find Rachel, for our nooner."

_The image of that... aside, Blaize and I rushed to find Saturna after our guests left. The batty woman stood downstairs, in a mess of slashed up furniture we put in our Queen's basement guestroom. Her white hair was a mess, her dress in shambles. I've never seen someone looking so haunted, wracked with guilt. Saturna demanded to know what we were all going to do, about Prince Chao'thas?_

_What could we say to that? Blaize and I felt Saturna should not try to contact her son, considering. For now, Nathaniel further offered to have some evidence manufactured to prove Saturna had been in Dalaran at the hour of the crime. _

"Huh? Where else would I have been, when Chao'thas just got expelled--"

Blaize stopped her. "No more of that. Here, there are some very thick woods out back, let's you and I go for a walk. And have a stiff talk about how important it is to _behave_ in this expensive house that was a gift from a very effective ex-Legion Ranger!"

_I went back upstairs to tear up my own belongings, because the very moment of my big break was to be the same day that stupid cotton-head of a Thalassian Queen vied to destroy the last scrap of my sanity!_

_Though, I do pause here to express how I will miss Kael'thas. We really did not like each other, nor did we ever have a mother-son connection. To be honest, I once entertained the idea of trading up Anasterian... well, that's an old conflict and done. Beyond the fact that both Sunstrider men teamed up against me when they caught the slightest whiff of what--anyone of my generation would agree--was strictly classic Court of the Sun-sized scheming. I was a tiger then, my effort to hold onto power, impressive. But, what of Anasterian's heir these days? Kael'thas had blazed across the world so brightly. No, across two whole worlds. Now, all burnt out._

_Excuse me for the smear on this page, I needed to wipe a tear, though I did not expect to. I must say good bye to Kael'thas Olvi'athon Sunstrider in my own way, I think. Since I do seem to care about him. The following is a poem. I will call it, Thalassian Closure:_

Oh, Kael'thas.

We liked you best when you were lost,

It was possible to dream that you'd gone away,

On some adventure,

Good journey in Outland,

Fare thee fair weather.

Prince Kael'thas,

We liked you least when once you were found,

Now impossible to deny that you'd schemed all day,

Two years' worth,

Beside a Demon Lord and the Legion in Outland,

Not at all clever.

King Kael'thas,

We hated you most when you did return,

Unreasonable to hope that you meant to do any more,

Than ruin our lives,

If only we could have sent you back, to Outland,

Forever.

At least you were not your stepmother's child.

_I'm not quite sure what I mean by the last line, or if I really ended the poem at all. But in one's grief, it is often hard to make sense. _

_The next important thing to record about the week is the social club's year-end meeting. Faltheriel and I encouraged an actual election beforehand, of course. He and I needed something to appear legitimate. We were neck and neck with this stuffy Silvermoon-and-Darnassus family freshly reunited with the help of squeaky clean lineage going back a hundred years on both sides. The Solarion-Greenleaves also refused to be bribed, until it was discovered that the patriarch of the household succumbed to a rare fel-disease in his mana. Faltheriel Darkweaver was the only one in Dalaran with the skill to heal it. The expense of getting moonwell water from Teldrassil, and sending someone to scrape debris from enchanted Twilight Cultist stones near Ahn'Quiraj prevented the Solarion-Greenleaf family from completing the race. So...without me asking too many more questions regarding Faltheriel's past, we won. Mister Vice President insisted on christening the Forsaken-style mansion nextdoor as the social club's official meeting house (Novia had cruelly sold the old one, without warning any of us first)._

_On the day of the event, I told Blaize to engage Rachel in conversation at the back of the meeting hall, to prevent having to broach the subject of Faltheriel needing to scale back his odd nuptial arrangement in front of the membership. They might have known about their three-way marriage, but really, they didn't really--understand. I've seen them say and do such scandalous things to one other, in public. To be honest, I've censored a great deal of what Dannox actually said to his husband, myself, and especially poor Blaize throughout this entry (and if Blaize seems particularly absent, then it's because he has an especially short fuse when Dannox hits on him nowadays). In any case, as a result of Blaize waiting gratefully far across the room, Faltheriel and Dannox were able to stand with arms twined and looking very handsome together at the head of the room, during my speech. Then, with great fear in my heart, I allowed the club's newest Vice-President to take the podium. While Faltheriel spoke, it was necessary to slap Dannox's hands away from me, more than twice. Looking back, we should have kept Rachel at the top of the room... though having Dannox ever get handsy with my Blaize again is a worse prospect._

Faltheriel began, "Dear friends, I am in complete agreement with Madame President. What you see around you in this house is not just the cutting edge of villainous interior design, meant to enforce complete submission and a sense of froth-mouthed loyalty to whomever is host. It is a gift from myself to all you members of the United Elven Alliance Social Club as a token to my commitment as Vice President. I hope that our dazzling future together will include no less than..."

_"Kael'thas... Chao'thas... why?"_

Faltheriel continued on, though many people seated began to turn around and wonder where the noise was coming from. He spoke of returning the landed gentry to Quel'thalas, of devoting the club's finances to a greater cause than entertainment. They could really _do _something now that they were free of Lady Novia's speculative designs. For, example...

_"Wasted it all... on his education... Ohhh..." _the eerie voice moaned and groaned now. It was dusk. Tree branches and their long shadows scritch-scratched against the windows. Blaize swore when he spied the disturbance was coming from the thick woods directly behind the mansion. He tore apart from Rachel, and shoved past a great deal many people now lingering at the door.

"Erm, I shall start a third time. What is more impressive than how I matched those chandeliers made from old rusted shackles to the pumpkin, sort of sienna-y carpet beneath your feet? Why, the big plans I have for this social club, that is--"

From outside,

_"Oh Kael'thas, I'm so sorry. How could I have--" _a tackle, crash through bushes and exasperated grunting, _"Blaize, stop. Get off!" _

"Are you INSANE? Wandering out here and making a ruckus like some crazed ghost. Do you know how important this day is to Celestia and myself?"

More commotion. A woman kicked and squealed in panic as she was dragged. Some tussle ended in her breaking free and banging on the windows. Saturna stupidly pressed her face against the glass. Face stained blue from the chill made everyone inside the house start.

"It's the ghost of Saturna Whiteblade!"

Another guest went, "No, Queen Sunstrider is still alive. Though she's been away from Silvermoon and Kael'thas long enough to fool half the kingdom."

"Really? I sort of... I was starting to like her better as a ghost. Haunting people through portraits and going 'Squee' at random intervals." went another person.

_Some of those celebrity gossip columns could be vicious, when it came to skewing the truth. I remembered a snide joke I made in my Fel Louise column not long ago, when I was so angry to have been stood up by Saturna at the opera. My, how those jokes about certain royal people having no souls, or else no corporeal bodies really worthy of binding a soul, go so far in the public imagination!_

_Blaize must have yanked Saturna away from the window and they tramped away, beyond the Forsaken-style house and into evening shadows. _

Faltheriel stood where he was, gripping the podium. "I, um. Well, that is... what was that, exactly, President Celestia?"

Before anyone could answer, Dannox saved it. "There's lots of free alcohol here in the cabinets. Let's all get so hammered it makes sense, yes?"

And that's just what we all did.

_Not much later, I learned there was even more mischief going on that night._

_Enchanted Avenue may be a pricey hot-shot locale in its own dimension, but it still needs a sewer system. Lone flaw in Faltheriel's blueprints for the place. Here, I'll paint a better picture of the next disastrous infiltration of the night:_

_A lone manhole cover clattered around midnight, as it was shifted from underneath. The heavy metal disc scraped one way and another, until it was screwed free, then hauled aside. An old gray Worgen man crept up from it into the night and peered around with glowing yellow eyes. On his right, blue porchlight flickered on and a Night Elven style house almost blinded him. After recovering from that, this odd warrior (who I learned in most unsettling fashion, calls himself Master Splint) covered both ears when the spooky Forsaken mansion on his right opened its doors. Drunken Elves of all sorts stumbled down the grand steps into the yard surrounded by twisted black iron gates. Almost every person held his or her own bottle of drink, singing off key in old languages. Babies cried somewhere in the distance. Twins. An omen, to be sure. And then, I suppose Master Splint said something mysterious, like..._

"Yes, this would be the foul lair of Mistress Slicer herself! Come, my sons." and beckoned.

_I also suspect that four figures in cloaks should have emerged from the sewer in a shroud of steam, billowing up from underground. The tiny war party either slithered or hobbled as best they could to the elaborate residence at the head of the street, where it is generally rumored in Dalaran that the two greatest criminals of Silvermoon made dastardly plans. _

_Within the home, unfortunately for the master of the house, that very kind of business appeared to be going on, whether he meant for it to or not._

_Blaize had tied Saturna down in a chair, he told me. He berated her for the disruptive behavior at the social club's meeting, pointed with a black riding crop every time his temper flared._

"What part of we're hiding you from the authorities don't you understand? Saturna, you can't just go running out of the house whenever you feel like. As soon as you calm down, I'm throwing you across the fastest Hawkstrider in Faltheriel's stables and I'm taking you away from here."

"That's not fair, Blaize. It's your fault in the first place that I did it. You saw how upset I already was at the opera, but yet you pushed me. You and Celestia both. So, I went directly home, got my sword afterward and dealt with him, head on! I'm surprised at you, really. Weren't you the one who always said I shouldn't put up with Kael'thas' foolishness? Why would I ever tolerate it from our son, then... hold on a second. Did you say murder?"

"Yes, murder!" another voice cried out. Now, the warparty of five burst in through the cellar doors and barred themselves inside the basement. All our staff of servants pounded angrily from the other side. The remainder of my house was in a shambles from fighting upstairs, I can assure you.

Saturna said, in decisive whisper, "Blaize, you have to let me up from this chair, if you want to live."

He didn't of course. I wouldn't have either, Saturna was not acting like a sane person. Some wacky chink in her composure had finally rent and sundered the whole make of that woman's already testy emotional armor.

Blaize questioned the intruders, and the old Worgen man introduced himself as Master Splint. Then, each of his warriors posed in some foolish fashion, calling themselves Raph, Mikey, Leo and then Don, in the purple headband.

"We are here to avenge those slain by the son of Mistress Slicer. How foul is this scheme, that it would even include the Queen of Silvermoon! How far up does it go, Mistress Slicer, to Kael'thas himself? As far away as Silvermoon City?"

Saturna gained a mischievous smile. "If you're looking to punish my son Chao'thas, then it's too late. I already found him and did that. Check the blood on his own katana sword, over there, if you doubt it."

Blaize watched, feeling more and more annoyed by the moment, as the four green Naga did as Saturna requested.

Leo, in the blue headband, seemed to be the leader. He clacked jaws angrily. "We wanted to get our revenge, in perssson."

Saturna laughed maniacally, saying that Chao'thas was already hidden away, someplace safe. They would never get to him again, ever!

"Wait, wait, wait..." Blaize paused them with a time-out gesture. "Prince Chao'thas... is the one you battled with that sword? So then, Kael'thas is still alive?"

This, was in fact, the case.

"And so, Saturna, you're came here threatening Celestia and myself because...?"

"Wouldn't you be upset if you found out your son wasted a million gold pieces lent towards his education on contracting a secret guild of ninja Demon slayers to prepare for some imagined epic battle with Illidan Stormrage and his own son Belorim?" in hasty aside, _To avenge what, I have no clue, _"And, lastly, Blaize, wouldn't you be concerned about your son's dark destiny after so many years of paying for therapy and expensive schooling? What other choice did I have, I'm a Bloodknight at the end of the day. And so I armed myself and went after him, Bloodknight to Assassin, to finally set that boy right!"

Splint added, "Wouldn't you furthermore regret beating the King's son and later try to seek refuge with other criminals, out of cowardice for meting out such radical parental discipline?"

Saturna blew hair out of her face, and laughed again. "I didn't do all that... I just... judged him with the Seal of the Crusader a few too many times. I won't raise up some psychotic, treacherous miscreant, dammit!"

_Another treacherous miscreant like Kael'thas? Yes, this was the great fear driving it all. Not that I sympathize with Saturna._

_The mutated and teenaged green Naga got frustrated then, and attacked Saturna anyways. A man swathed in black with flickering purple cape emerged from the shadows, leaned her over on two chairlegs to dodge the attack, and got Saturna's rope binds cut loose. Then the man, he was obviously a long-eared Blood Elf, ran with strange tri-bladed claw weapons, to the center of the room. He readied to fight the teenaged mutated green Naga one at a time. The four monsters hissed and lunged together._

"Chao'thas, no!"

Blaize went, "Oh gods, Chao'thas is Master Slicer? Ughhhh..."

_Prince Chao'thas parried Don's Bo Staff, swept low to take out Leo's double katana sword attack when he tried to wrench away her weapon. He kicked hard and aimed well to knock over Mikey and his whirling nunchucks. Then, Chao'thas and Raph had an impressive fight, with sparks dancing between his twin Sai and Chao'thas' clawed blades. At some point, he flicked a switch at the base of each and came in swiping fast, with sharp edges rotating and cutting on their own. The Prince threw weight completely into graceful Elven attacks. Raph's Naga tail lashed angrily in attempt to undo the claw weapons somehow, but his Sai were practically useless. More frustrated 'Tauren-a-bungas!' He could not aim fast enough to grab a hold and disarm Chao'thas. He dared to get close enough and try seizing the Blood Elf in jagged, crocodilian jaws._

_Blaize found a cask of lamp oil began dousing it about the floor and walls as he considered hurrying along Saturna's favor to his newfound success with the Darkweavers. When word got out, he sensed there would be no living this down. Thank goodness I arrived in time, before he could strike a match and light the whole embarrassing shameful twist of events on fire._

"Excuse me, Sirs!" I shouted when at last the servants used a heavy marble statue to ram through the blocked cellar doors. Blaize hugged me with relief and summed it up quickly. I wheeled and dealed as fast as I could manage this time. "Master Splint, call off this duel in my house. From what I've been hearing, Queen Saturna and you five are all on the same side. She tried to punish Chao'thas herself, did she not? And, she regrets her son's behavior."

Splint whistled hard, and all four green Naga held off. Chao'thas was left panting hard in the center of the room. He whipped off his metal helmet, complete with jagged, slicing hooks at the crown. "Grandmaaa, you're ruining it!"

_Oh, could that kid whine something high-pitched and awful._

"For the last time, I am--technically--not your grandmother. I'm not anyone's grandmother, and I'm inclined to go even further and proudly state that, at this point in my life and after all that I've witnessed tonight: I've not made any terrible offspring thus far in my life, by choice!"

Blaize commiserated, "Here, here." and helped Saturna to her feet.

The Queen said, "Chao'thas, we're all so very disappointed in you. How many beatings will it take to convince you that this is foolishness? How can you have so much anger inside of you?"

"Dad and Illidan... I don't like it, Mother. No one does. Whatever Thrall says doesn't matter. It's selfish to keep such a dangerous Demon Lord as a pet, and they're both so cruel. Completely corrupt! Just take a look at what Illidan's done to Darnassus? It's not the fault of Tyrande nor Malfurion. That's all Illidan, and it's so freaking obvious!"

"Illidan frightens me as well, but your father is managing his work as that man's warlock master as best he can. It's a sacrifice. Morever, that's no reason to go around hunting Fel Elves or green Naga who accept The Curse. You're to be the next King of Quel'thalas, and this is no way to comport yourself! What if word gets beyond Dalaran that you actually flunked out of University, playing too many games of..." Saturna couldn't find a good word to sum it all up, and might have called this Assassin character Chao'thas indulged in a 'Diablo II' obsession, or some such.

"It's not lame. One of these days, they're going to come out with an expansion and who will be laughing then?! And there's also Belorim. He goes around claiming to be my half-brother. I won't stand for it. Nor do I want to be King at all, if I can't rule as I please. I'll go away to... to Outland!" then, Chao'thas fled.

Blaize lost his nerve, "If you think I'm going with _you_ this time, then FAT, FUCKING LUCK!"

_Now that it was safe to, seeing as how Saturna was mostly delusional about being in trouble with the law, I put the lot of them out of our house. Here, I set down my pen. Blaize wishes us to walk Saturna personally beyond Enchanted Avenue and hail her a taxi to the Flight Master, to smooth over what we can. Do take better care than I did today, my diary._

A few moments later...

Celestia, Blaize and Saturna were nearly beyond the last house in that neighborhood before Faltheriel Darkweaver rushed out of his home, in a dressing robe. Rachel and Dannox weren't far away, and it was very clear why the three of them were still up at that hour.

"Silvermoon Fangirl Scout troop leader, what are you doing here?" Faltheriel gasped.

Blaize whispered in Saturna's ear, then she said, "To... congratulate you on your success?"

Faltheriel handed a half-empty wineglass back to Dannox and then raced down into the street. He hugged Saturna. "Oh my goodness! You came all this way to visit me? Blaize, Celestia, I'm so surprised at you, being able to keep it a surprise for so long! And look at you, Saturna, you look good." Only Faltheriel would think so, in light of what she just endured, "What's it like being Queen? And that castle, and living on the old Sunthraze Estate and everything else!"

Rachel donned a disgusted look. Dannox grasped their wife by the shoulders and pushed her into the embrace too. Then, the big Night Elf squeezed everyone in a hug that was a little too happy.

Saturna pleaded with her old friend, "Blaize, can I please stay over here tonight? Um... isn't that what you wanted, as part of your surprise for Faltheriel?"

Celestia covered her face, and Blaize comforted her. He said, "Haven't you had enough of an adventure on Enchanted Avenue tonight? Besides breaking any royal marriage vows at this point would be, well, really stupid Saturna, ontop of everything else."

Celestia sniped, "Besides, no one ever knows where Dannox has been."

With Faltheriel and Rachel, that's what. So, then, they did know. This was Rachel's defense of her husband. The silly foursome wanted to catch up on Kael'thas and the Sunfury Army, the Black Temple, Tempest Keep and beyond. Celestia and Blaize watched from the street, fearing to go and join, as Faltheriel and the rest dragged blankets and pillows to cuddle up in front of the flat-screened scrying orb. The K-word rule was dropped for the evening.

Celestia sighed, and ushered Blaize quickly away from the Darkweavers' porch. "Come on Blaize, we've suffered enough. We'll come back and pick up Saturna in the morning."

The two refined people strolled up the lane, and to their home.

"Celestia, you don't think Faltheriel, or Dannox--really, I'm worried about Dan--will get Saturna to ruin whatever last chance she's got with Kael'thas tonight, do you?"

His wife adjusted her shawl on the disheveled porch of their home and smiled. "Depends on how you look at it. If I were her, and I weren't carrying Lorth'remar's child already, then I'd certainly get up to it."

"Celeste! How can you say such a thing... though, it is the oldest trick in the book. Heh, in fact, I'd forgotten that I tried to pull the same thing on Saturna, with Kael'thas. But she'd have to go with Faltheriel at least, a Night Elf baby would never pass." then, Blaize thought of a cross between a Darkweaver and a Sunstrider--or, to be more accurate, a Whiteblade, which would be far worse. He shuddered.

"And my, has your ex-wife taken to being a villainous Sunstrider. Taking a sword to defective children to beat sense into them, and now this. You see, I only suggest as much about their foursome because Saturna, herself, told me what she intended to do. Do you remember when we were left waiting downstairs putting on our jackets? You went upstairs to find your hat, and the two of us women got busy talking. I promise that, this time around, I didn't plant any ideas in Saturna's head."

"Will Kael'thas fall for it, though?"

Celestia laughed. "Fel, no. There's an old Sunstrider magical trick to safeguard against that, nor is Kael'thas stupid. I do admire Saturna's spunk though. She's coming along as a Queen, finally. Getting things done, by any means necessary. Whatever happens though, one thing is most important: she will not forget about us. We are all but promised a slice of the Ghostlands along with the Solarion-Greenleaves and every other member of the club, when she returns to Silvermoon. After the Opera, and then the insanity of today... The Queen, while she lasts as that, can never, ever forget about our kindness."

Blaize smiled half-heartedly at his wife, then escorted her over the threshold into the house. When Celestia was back comfortable again, "That is, if the world doesn't end first--"

"Oh, hush up about that, I said! Are you trying to scare me out of my last nerve?"

Blaize was solemn. "I just want us to be on the same page, is all. Ready for that fight."


	20. Other People Have Problems too, Dannox

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Twenty: Dannox, Other People Have Problems Too**

After they finished escorting a very giggly and flustered Queen Saturna Sunstrider to the Flightmaster's on the following morning, Celestia and Blaize went directly back home. They asked the coachman to slip fast past the Darkweaver estate and any of their United Elven socialites enjoying the residence next door. It seemed Faltheriel was standing on his porch with a cigar, wearing the same robe he had on the previous night. He waved energetically, but they pretended to be caught up in animated conversation, and paid him, nor his loosening bathrobe, any mind.

Celestia threw her cloak and gloves at a servant then rushed upstairs. When Blaize met her there, she was busy writing in her diary again. He took off his shoes and sat on the bed.

"Are you angry because my ex-wife wrecked our house with her hi-jinks? Or, are you angry with me, for leaning so hard on this end-of-the-world thing?"

Celestia just flipped a page and kept writing.

He hugged her. "You know, after I confessed my undying commitment to you, we never did... enjoy our new, re-forged romance."

"So? What of it?"

Blaize took that as well as he could, "Alright. I'm just letting you know." and rose to go back downstairs.

She sniped, "...just so that we're on the same page."

"Alright, if you have something to say to me, let's get it out."

"Why does it seem that you have no interest at all in what I'm doing? You're not supportive of my plan to get the social club back to Quel'thalas, in the least. Is it because you want to stay here, in Dalaran, playing house? We can't have a real life together if Thalassian soil isn't beneath our feet, and not with our good names sullied. I'd like to be Celestia Sunstrider Blaize without seeing other people cringe. I'm so tired of fighting, of holding my chin up when really, I feel like something cheap."

"Does my last name cheapen you?"

"Oh, it's not even yours." she continued to write.

Blaize could have left, like he used to run off to the couch when they were stuck in that crappy apartment. Trapped in their hatred for one another. He really did want to, but instead, snatched up her diary, threw open a window and pitched it outside into the cold.

"You _ass_!" Celestia shouted.

"It's an object, it's not important, remember? No one else can read it, except for who you say, and it'll find its way back to you anyway, that's another thing you said. Somehow, miracle of miracles, I understand that even though I wasn't born a member of the landed-gentry, whatever you mean by that."

Celestia fretted, then ended up pouting. "I just get so frustrated with you. You say that you love me, and then you act like this?"

"Like what?"

"Perhaps it's because... I never asked you. Do you, Nathaniel, want to return to Silvermoon? But, why wouldn't you?"

"Hold on now, I didn't get my chance to answer."

In any case, Blaize found he could not. It would break her heart. He kissed his wife instead. "This is what we really need, this is why we're both frustrated. It's been one thing after another since Saturna surprised us. Lay down with me."

One can imagine how they spent the rest of their day, when the kiss Blaize offered her was already sweetened by such blissful denial.

The neighbors and socialites seemed to sense post-election celebration was going on, and slyly used the opportunity to hold back club-sized politics from President Celestia. So then, on this particular afternoon, during which Faltheriel placed himself strategically at the center of the cigar-lounge of his decorated-all-over clubhouse, reading the newspaper, he was approached. The Economy section was folded to the outside, but he really was focused on the re-print of his own wife's column and all the scandalous details of their love-triangle when it first hatched in Shatthrath City some years ago.

"Vice-President, we have a problem."

Faltheriel (thankfully not in his slippery bath-robe anymore) put on his best diplomatic face, stood and shook the hands of the gentlemen who approached. Next, he gracefully invited them to sit.

"The Solarion-Greenleaves have signed for all the property in the Ghostlands, not just some of it, as per the club agreement. We've all been cheated out of our shares!"

"What? But that's impossible. They could never afford it." _Not after I spiked the patriarch's mana and inclined him to seek expensive treatment..._

Another man said, "But that's what John's nephew says, all the same. He's in the Silvermoon City Works office. He saw the old fool sign for the whole damned thing. Everyone here put their money into the pot, and the Solarion-Greenleaves take it all away!"

Faltheriel chewed nervous, black painted fingernails. Where he used to work, the way to solve problems was to decapitate them. And, several flushed faced-folks sat around, throwing angry gestures at him, blowing smoke, and urging him to go do something. "I um... that is... will you excuse me, a moment? I just need to go home and consult my--"

"No!"

Well, running away was out. At their urging, Faltheriel was forced to take a sheet of paper and dictate an angry letter to the Solarion-Greenleaves. Faltheriel wanted a copy sent to Celestia for her reference, but the gruff men hurried him out the door and then escorted him directly to the Post Office. By the end of that evening, the Vice-President was worn out beyond belief. So many other matters needed to be settled once he returned to Enchanted Avenue--so many of these had been waiting conveniently for him alone, not Celestia--and he they hounded him. Only Dannox grabbing his husband by the wrist in the evening and growling them all down spared Faltheriel for dinner. After that, Faltheriel sent for club President Celestia to come to the Darkweaver home. He feared to go back out into the street, or within view of the clubhouse.

"What's the matter?" Celestia asked of their butler, as soon as she was admitted. He was a spooky Forsaken man who shrugged and knocked knobbly patella bones as he escorted Celestia into the drawing room.

"You should fire that awful butler. If he's not conspiring to know the family business, Mrs. Darkweaver, then how can you be sure to pay him off when secrets eventually pass through bedroom doors?"

Rachel looked a bit annoyed. "We might have already frightened him away, with the sounds coming through our bedroom doors, Celestia. But, since you insist, I'll make note of it."

Faltheriel went on to tell her, getting frantic, of all the annoying people tugging at him all day long, and finally, about the letter.

"THEY DID WHAT?! Ugh, I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose. They know how I am, no one wants to deal with the old Queen who isn't afraid to bellow 'No!' over and over again until they stop trying to tear off their shares. You say John Lithelimb was in that group? He is the main troublemaker... Faltheriel, there is an underside to the United Elven Alliance Social Club. They managed to accept you, as much as they could, for a reason. More than a few of us are holed up in Dalaran and away from our homelands not just because of the unrest in Silvermoon and Darnassus. We have unsavory backgrounds. How else do you think Blaize and I were admitted, back when Novia was in charge of things? I actually took the Solarion-Greenleaves aside, told them to take the entire guild bank and sign for all available property in the Ghostlands on purpose. They have a clean family history. Then, each of us would buy our individual plots from them, as a way to slip in, unnoticed. No background checks into our pasts, and so forth. Why did you not come to me with this?"

"They wouldn't let me?"

Celestia cursed under her breath. "So then, at present, the Solarion-Greenleaves have an angry letter sitting in their mailbox, harranguing them for being very kindly, the only members of the club I felt I could trust with such a selfless task. If they don't decide to just keep that land or make even more money and sell it off to the hungry buyers in Silvermoon--all incensed by now, to hear that land around Tranquillien is in demand... ugh."

A baby could be heard crying from upstairs. Celestia smiled briefly, when she concluded it was Dannox putting their daughters down for the night. Perhaps Chao'thas the other day was frightful, but... wouldn't it be wonderful... for when this was all sorted out... to settle down with Nate and just... "We have to fix this. I won't lie to you, Faltheriel. It is not going to be easy to plan, and it may take all night. Are you willing to make that sacrifice?"

Rachel laughed. "Don't ask him that, ask Dannox instead. I'm going over to a girlfriend's house, and he's under the mistaken impression that he can just stop being a father once they're sleeping. Etcetera, etcetera." She kissed Faltheriel on the cheek, still laughing hard, took up her purse and coat, then left.

Faltheriel wringed his hands. "You may not be able to tell, but she's angry with me for not being included in my speech, and stuck at the back of the room with Blaize. Also, it's suddenly become Dannox's turn to watch the girls. After the noise we made last night with Saturna, the servants are afraid to go near us or the children... Affection is already so slim on all sides, Celestia, and now this. How much longer will I have to go without?"

Celestia could not _believe_ this was his only concern. She whispered, "Unless you can hump people in the midst of packing moving boxes, possibly weeks."

Faltheriel was shipped out to the front lines with a league of ready-to-relocate United Elven Social Club families flanking him. He was burdened down with gifts, to boot, and was forced to throw a welcome home party for the Solarion-Greenleaves as soon as they all arrived. The family was understandably angry and was already considering selling off some shares of land to investors in Silvermoon City, as Celestia had anticipated. But he'd brought enough expectant would-be neighbors--the same pushy sorts who'd maneuvered him not long ago, lots of Northrend wine and plenty of Dalaran cheeses to romance them into remembering how adorably ridiculous their old friends could get. It caused Faltheriel to be away for an entire month, which angered Dannox.

"Why was I not consulted!" Dannox shouted when the full breadth of his husband's absence became apparent. "You sent my husband away for a month without even asking me? And Rachel has practically taken a vacation on her side of the house."

Celestia informed Dannox of news that Faltheriel successfully acquired back the property, but that did not make him less angry. As if to further taunt him, the street outside was noisy with their friends parting ways in the streets. Parties were being thrown at all hours to say goodbye as people eager to start a new life packed up expensive homes and re-located. She suspected there might also be a part of the perverted druid which was a party animal. This meant that Dannox knew for a fact he couldn't indulge the way he wanted to a few paces across the street from his front door, without a willing spouse to watch him.

The club President tried to return the conversation to civility, "This was an emergency situation. Believe it or not, some things in this life _are _bigger than your cock, Dannox."

He left off being angry for a beat, grinning like a fiend, then made himself be serious again. "Don't ever take my Filthy away again without asking first. Do you think this whole life is about money and getting your share? Well, it isn't. I wouldn't exist without those two, and our girls, I really wouldn't."

"Oh, please. That letter got sent out in the first place because your husband is a pushover. It's the same reason why he and Rachel agreed to take you back after all that catting around you did, and it's the same reason I am asking you to get over it now. All three of you submissive and emotional to a fault. That's the real reason your sorry triangle works; it reaches and bends, contorting to whatever shape is necessary."

He snarled, "I _will_ go feral on you, Celestia! I've done it in the past... back when I was leveling."

When Faltheriel returned, half of the United Elven Social Club had already moved to the Ghostlands. The land was going like hot-cakes, he said over dinner at the Sunstrider-Blaize home on the night of his arrival. It was as they suspected, that with enough private money put into the effort, the Scourge-tainted land could be worked and restored. And, while there, he sort of made a deal to reserve a choice space for the Darkweavers, which was so beautiful Faltheriel felt comfortable promising his husband and wife that their new home would make up for his prolonged absence. Blaize was more distant than ever, and hadn't finished his food. Rachel took another drink while Dannox fed Pia and Dora. Dannox paused frequently, whenever tempers sparked in the room, and that was often.

"You see," Celestia quipped, "Everything worked out exactly as Madame President foresaw."

"Not exactly. At this rate, nearly all of us will be moved across the North Sea by Spring, except for... Madame President. I promise, I don't mean it as any kind of threat, it's just that I overheard the strangest rumor while away in Silvermoon..."

_Some weeks ago,_

King Kael'thas Sunstrider locked his mistress in the closet when Advisor Sorn came running up with the news. Queen Saturna had returned from Dalaran. She had survived the outrageous Magnus Opus Kael'thas hadn't anticipated would be a tell-all about himself, and Saturna even braved whatever secret designs his step-mother Celestia and his old rival General Nathaniel Blaize possessed together. All Queen Saturna wanted now was her mate-by-law, Kael'thas Olvi'athon Sunstrider himself. Sorn and Kael'thas stood in the hallway outside of the royal bedroom doing another of their old advisor-to-bookworm pep-talks.

"You can do this, Kael'thas."

"I know that I can. I'm the King. I came this far..."

"I'll keep Rishka up here. We've got a while still before she breaks out of the closet."

Kael'thas nodded, "Good, transport her to Tempest Keep if you have to--"

"Do you really want her near all those delicate and expensive instruments?"

"Uh... alright, but don't let her anywhere near Saturna and myself. I've waited years for this conversation."

"Remember, Kael'thas. If you can conjure a phoenix..."

He made fists, took a deep breath, and repeated the mantra, "Then I can talk to a woman... talk to a woman... talk to a woman..."

And when he arrived in a sitting room on the ground floor adjacent to the Throne, Kael'thas felt at a loss for words anyway. Saturna smiled at him with such effortless, genuine warmth as the sun when it presided over a fresh Spring day. There was a more unique glow in her cheeks now than there ever was... and a definite secret also enchanted the look. Kael'thas wondered what it was? He fought a strong temptation to ask Saturna about her trip, but that could have started an argument about her designs for stealing off to Dalaran in the first place. He thought next about complimenting her appearance, but the temptation to solicit the reason for her allowing some lovely swell at her hips could dwindle to bickering over what he thought of her weight. Then, his gaze wandered shamefully away from the eager rise and fall of a bust he had been trying to measure the exact increase of, with a lover's devoted eye. Drawing attention to that as well would only lead to... Kael'thas failed every expectation of himself. In the end, he barely managed an intense look with one hand folded over his mouth. A silly grin safeguarded by knuckles he cracked to relieve a husband's anxiety at having to be in this situation with a vowed love he never ever hoped to offend in the first place. Two lifetimes' worth of struggle to get here. Only, here...

Saturna, after wriggling in her seat for a bit, decided to start it. "All the rumors are true. I'm having your baby."

Kael'thas fell pretty hard into a chair.

"Look at you, you're so pleased! And I'm excited too. We've had our chances in the past, but this time it's real, Kael'thas. We can be together, we can be a family again..."

Now the King's expression went especially dark. "I really had hoped, that you wouldn't try this with me. Why not just ask me to start loving you again, at least give me that much credit, that I am capable of learning from my mistakes. I don't need a collar, to be dragged into it. I thought your image of me had improved?"

Saturna flinched.

"What's that look? You didn't expect me to have a choice in this, a shred of dignity about me, did you?"

"Oh, Sunshine, it's not like that--"

"Belorim. You do remember that name, don't you?" Saturna did, "I know that you went to see the Magnus Opus. So, you realize that he is not my son. At least not by blood."

Saturna didn't like where this was going.

"And Chao'thas... we found out about him so close to the time you and Blaize ended your marriage, at the Black Temple."

"But I thought the Sunstrider men had a sort of trick to tell--"

"There is no trick, Saturna. I lied. What would that even entail? What magic could ever discern as much about a life that isn't fully developed yet? The only magic to that is it scares the woman into telling the truth. A vicious game my father passed down to me, and his father before then, and so forth. I wanted you badly, so I went along with it. I was panicking beforehand, but then I realized that if I didn't get my act together, and soon, I'd drive you away... and so I relied upon my father's advice. I also... I never confided this, but I have more than a few experiences before we met to convince me that I may not be able to even create a son. Or, a daughter for that matter. We've been going back and forth since our estrangement, but only now, after you got together with Lorth'remar, did you find out you were pregnant with my child? It's only obvious."

Saturna went to him, took his fingers and kissed them. "No, no, don't do this to yourself. The truth is, I love you."

"No, the truth is, you've given me three illegitimate children. And I think this one is going to hurt the most. Maybe, I can't... do this anymore."

Saturna couldn't believe it. Kael'thas was crumbling before her eyes. She knelt before him, feeling her tears come. She also watched the anguish rise again in him. Illidan hadn't done it in the end. Arthas hadn't destroyed Kael'thas, either. But she, herself, would be his undoing. He confessed, "Starshine, you don't even know how much I sacrificed for you. It's like a wound in my chest, tearing larger, every moment we hurt one another, every month that we're apart, even after two lifetimes..."

"Two lifetimes?"

Kael'thas didn't say anymore. Saturna worked nervous fingers at playing with his robes, then lifted them and irrationally kissed his bare knees. Kael'thas laughed through his nose, and shook his head. She tugged him to his feet.

"Are we over?" Saturna whimpered.

Kael'thas just looked at the ground.

"Sunshine, isn't it... enough that I lied about three pregnancies, to please you? Well, not... sort of the first. The second I can't remember for some reason, which is still upsetting, but the last one. This one, I totally lied about, on purpose. I might have even... slept with Lorth'remar just to have a child that looks like you... in order to... get you to leave Rishka and whatever it is that she does to every man she comes across."

Kael'thas let Saturna into his arms. And he was still lying too, about what Illidan had really done to her. Now, he wondered if all the trouble, and re-writing it all was worth it. Maybe that had been the real trap in Vashj's bargain, that knowing what he had done, he could never be happy. Though, Vashj would get everything she wanted. Another way to screw him.

"Maybe, Kael'thas, I'm a villain, just like you. I don't care who the father is. I just want the child to be yours."

"Oh, don't say that. We already did that..."

"No! I'm serious. Look at me, I like... I conned you into buying me an estate, I went all the way to Dalaran to conspire with your enemies. I nearly beat our son bloody, when he did something I feared would end him--and end us. I mean, I can be vicious." Saturna tried on a mean face.

"You... beat up Chao'thas?"

"He punched out of the Dalaran Academy."

"After all that bribe money I sent to the Headmaster to get him in there in the first place?! And then the therapy, when no school of magic ever manifested itself in him, the trips to Tempest Keep and back. All he had to do was graduate, and then get some sap to marry him. But, that boy still found a way to waste MY money?!"

"It wasn't an academic expulsion. Chao'thas was found hunting down fel-Naga and fel-Elves, anything fel, exposed to Demon magic. A whole underground team of fighters organized themselves in Dalaran to oppose his killing spree when the authorities were afraid to deal with our son. Mutated, teenage Naga... something. I almost lost it after confronting him, but Blaize and Celestia helped me."

Kael'thas groaned. "I think I can see what you mean. Parentage is a technicality after what I suffered, raising him. I'd be angry if anyone tried to tell me I _wasn't_ Chao'thas' father, or Belorim's father, or... this one's father, after all I went through, to protect them."

"How were you protecting Belorim? Did you have something to do with me getting separated from him?"

Kael'thas considered saying a lot of things in that moment. "It was Illidan's fault. We'll talk about it some more later."

They kissed. Kael'thas became lost in it, the feel of having her again, "You know, Rishka is in my bedroom..."

He was slapped for it.

"No, no! How did that come out? I mean that I need to get her out of my bedroom, away from the palace. I tried many times before, but she won't leave. Wait right here."

Saturna did not want to wait. She wanted to sit on the couch and enjoy having him back for a little while longer.

Mid-kiss, "Saturna, what were you conspiring with Blaize and Celestia about? In Dalaran... you're not saying I owe them anything, do you? Because if so... if you're thinking you can maneuver me like that, on their behalf, then that is the highest sort of betrayal between a Queen and her King. We would have something else to fight about."

Saturna was giddy. She smiled away any obligation. "What happens if I summon up your special kiss, when you're already inside my mouth? I've been wondering..."

A villainess, indeed.

_And so back to Faltheriel's story..._

"And that's what happened. King and Queen are back together again, and I don't think she mentioned your part in it, at all."

Blaize and Celestia were furious. Rachel opened her mouth in shock. Dannox made some awful comment about Saturna and wishing she'd kissed him like that a month ago.

"Down!" said little Dora. The other baby girl, Pia, started laughing.

Perfectly rotten time to have an adorable family moment. Especially a first word. Blaize checked to see how Celestia was doing. She crumpled her napkin and excused herself from the table. She almost didn't take her jacket out into the snow. The butler saw to it.

Faltheriel drummed nervous fingers on the table. "Am I in trouble, Blaize?"

The old General glared back, perhaps remembering every misstep Faltheriel had ever made in the Sunfury Army, and every other rumor he'd heard up until now. "For once... no. Nor is Saturna. Really, it was a slim chance Celestia was betting on, and she assumed Saturna was like herself, back when she was Queen."

Rachel guessed, "...competent?"

It was close to the truth. Blaize felt a small stab of pride, that the wife he'd chosen was far more reliable. "Go on home, I know you want to. Don't move away without... saying good bye to your old friends. I'll see if I can't console her."

_In Silvermoon..._

Le Rishka was still living in the palace. She had seen Kael'thas and Saturna together once, while Sorn rushed her along a busy corridor intent on giving them a better, bigger room than the King's chamber. Only, Kael'thas never joined her in it. Nothing had been explained to her yet, though. Sorn was very good at forcing her to miss meetings with Kael'thas, miss dinners with him. Everyone was terrified about something. Was it her reaction? No, but they could not have discovered what she really was...

A blue scrying orb on the nightstand flashed on. _"Is it done, yet?"_

Rishka pounded her fist on the table top. "I told you never to contact me here!"

"Who is in charge? Not you. Have you got a hold of Kael'thas or not? If you continue to ssstall me..." the blue face looked more like its true form, perfect almond eyes just barely managing to penetrate through a contorted face washed green by pulsing arcane magic.

"As you once said, kin will not betray kin. Flesh cannot hurt itssself. Leave me to my work."

_"The runes are all but drawn. Malfurion has accepted the baby as his own. War cannot begin without this last piece. I hope we know what we are doing."_

_Then, the link and its aqua light extinguished._

_Rishka grabbed fistfuls of her brunette hair. This was not her land. This was not her time. The task, too new, impossible. An instinct to survive surged and she raced to the closet. All makes of flimsy robes in the ancient style were tossed aside. Jewelry were cast against the wall and onto the floor, to burst into pretty pieces. Finally, the scrape of key in lock, and the creak of hinges, a small box opening. _

_Kael'thas' mistress remerged from the wardrobe to stand at the center of her bedroom. She lifted a long, golden dagger. Glowing liquid slipped along the edge of the blade, then held in a silvery droplet at its edge. Then, Rishka reversed it, and the tear raced back down the length of metal, impossible to ever disturb. _

_"Vashj said she was a ghost before, and even then... but if I kill her with thisss," blue eyes danced at the thought, now too, lustful laughter, "...and straight through the heart? With the help of the Well of Eternity, there shall be no other Queen."_


	21. Black Magic

**MLFMP**- An epic tale of fangirl delusion, Bloodknight zealotry and heartfelt recovery.

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

Dear Reader,

I quit WOW many months ago. It was a painful, eye-opening experience. Therefore, as I say good bye, the remainder of this fanfiction series will be cathartic.

-pooktales

**Chapter Twenty-One: Black Magic**

(The following song is based on Ella Fitzgerald's)

On the red, desolate burnt fields of Azshara, Lady Vashj found her henchwoman Novia, kneeling, working tirelessly at marking chalk runes over and over. These were her lei lines, her true designs all along.

"What now, my Mistress?"

Vashj plucked a slender twig from one of the dying trees. So many spells had been cast there, so many sorcerers attempting to do what Vashj felt confident, could at last be ripped up from the world and effected. And not just expertly, under everyone's noses, but with elegance.

"Henchwoman, listen to me. I will sing the world one last song before it all bubbles and throes into that largest plan, my best nightmare-spell cast yet."

Wild bright colors of magic surged like flame up from the earth. Old glittering shades of walls, plazas, temple columns, an altar right before the Naga witch-woman as she conjured with simple wand and sang. Soon and soon and soon, it promised to knit and breathe and live...

_"That old Naga magic has me in its spell_

_That old black magic that I, Vashj, weave so well_

_Icy fingers up_

_and down reptile spine_

_The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine..."_

A shade of Malfurion was suddenly there. He kissed Vashj and caressed all over her working arms and shoulders before fading back into fantasy.

_"The same old tingle that I felt while holding knife,_

_When that sweet conjuring started its ride_

_Down and down I go, round and round I go_

_Like deposed Queen Azshara still_

_caught in my tide..."_

Somewhere, Illidan left Tyrande sitting alone at a stone bench and joined his brother Malfurion, in adoring powerful Vashj.

_"I should stay away but what can I do?_

_I hear your names, and I'm aflame_

_Aflame with_

_such a burning desire_

_That only your kiss can put out the fire."_

One kiss to fingers lit everything at once and the dream men grabbed hold of Vashj, exulted at seeing the pristine spires and crystalline temples of their ancient city, reborn.

_"You are the lover that I've waited for_

_The mate that fate had me created for_

_And every time your lips meet mine..."_

It began to last, real warm stone. The sea-coast roared. At the summit of all her masterwork, Novia gasped and saw that a vortex formed, black water opening stormy mouth to the Maelstrom itself. When she looked to Vashj again, Kael'thas had joined her. It turned to lewd groping from all three magic-men. Novia admonished herself for really being so surprised, after everything. Of course!

_"Babies, down and down I go,_

_all around I go_

_In a ssspin, you loving the spin that I'm in_

_Under that old Naga magic called love."_

Novia came and stood beside Vashj. "Um... where's the rest of it? You know, the big honking middle part of the palace? Where the throne and all the royal bedrooms, the treasury and all that's supposed to be? How are you going to be queen of the world with no money to spend and no elven kings to use as your footstools?"

It was as if someone had shaved right through the middle of the glittering city, leaving a bald spot. When Novia was done being horrified at it, she looked up to find Vashj glaring at her instead.

"...Was I supposed to take care of it, Vashj? But wait! I got popular society warmed up to accept Naga before the United Elven Social Club folded, _and _I gave you Malfurion too."

"And delivered Illidan as well, through securing him with a full druid baby, yesss." Vashj thought, teasing a long red nail beneath her chin. "Oh, you've got to be bloody kidding me! Sssaturna Whiteblade Blaize Sssundstrider is, once again, the lynchpin? Silvermoon hasn't signed on yet. How did she manage to outdo Le Rishka? Aaaaaaargh! Clearly, some things a sorceress has to do, for herself! Novia, keep trying to mend the two sides of the spell while I'm out killing things."

"Yes, of course. For the United Elven Empire!"

Later...

_Illidan? Did you feel that?_

Illidan did not answer Kael'thas.

_Are you asleep? Wake up then, Demon. The earth moved. A blast of magic. Can you sense where it is coming from?_

_Master, there is something you must know. I fear Vashj has betrayed us._

_How?_

_She has gone further than she was supposed to. Tonight, she offered Malfurion a stolen baby. Rather than accept it, Malfurion turned to Tyrande. My Tyrande became distressed, she wanted to find the parents, when it reminded her of Belorim all over again. And so hear I lay, exhausted with comforting her and silencing her. The guilt is here, in my arms. It wants to come out, Master Kael'thas, it wants to wake up and tell the world that it knew all along, that, together, we knew Belorim was not ours and kept him. Then what? Tyrande must be satisfied, or Saturna will learn the truth about everything. The Triumvirate's plans will unravel. I beg you, Kael'thas, fix this... I am but your pet. I can only go so far, in my misery._

Kael'thas was stunned and quiet for a time, thinking. _But, Illidan, why did you not answer my first question? The primary lei line beneath the Black Temple, did you feel it move?_

Illidan drifted back to sleep.

Beside Kael'thas, Saturna was awake. "What's going on? Was that an earthquake?"

"A lei line... but it will be alright, go back to sleep."

"Where are you going? If everything is fine, then why are you leaving, Kael'thas!"

He rushed out of the room. Advisor Sorn was already up and rushing to his King. "Was that tremor the elemental disturbance Thrall worried about?"

"I hope not. It was a monstrous tremor. But why only one? Is it started and over already, the spell fulfilled? Or... I don't know. Sorn, there is another matter we must deal with. Illidan is hiding something from me. Have you heard any reports of missing druid children?"

"From where?"

Another quake. Kael'thas grabbed the wall, and forced himself to think_. _"Dammit, it's like the castle is coming off its foundation!"

"The same thing was happening in Darnassus, a few hours ago. We got a message, via scrying orb, for magical assistance, but by the time our Magisters were assembled, the whole problem had stopped. Four good shakes, though, that's all. Now, orphan reports from which city?"

That was the problem, it could be any city. Kael'thas got the courage to walk again, to his office. There were several letters on his desk, one elaborate note from General Blaize in Dalaran stood out from the others. "Bah! What is this fool doing, writing me, going against the law. How can I extend General Ass-hat's sentence beyond forever?"

"That's just it, you can't, and he knows it."

"Sorn, I think it was a druid, I assume a Night Elf baby Illidan mentioned. Vashj tried to present it to Malfurion as their own daughter. If I don't find the parents and soon, Tyrande's going to get her conscience inconveniently back, and Illidan too-because I sense his duplicity-may ruin everything."

"Kael'thas, by absolutely everything, do you mean this plan within a plan that got Thrall so angry, only news of a planetary elemental disruption could stay his wrath for you? This same plan within a plan you won't even tell your Chief Advisor about?"

"It's to protect Saturna."

"Ah yes, of course. It always has been."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sorn did not answer. Another quake, that upset Kael'thas desk. Saturna's voice called out immediately after, down the hallway.

"Go on my King, I'll start research in the office."

"Do you resent me, Sorn, for minding her so? Is that what you're trying to tell me after struggling for years... that I made the wrong decision?"

Sorn shrugged. "I just assumed you already understood... this whole thing with Saturna is clearly an obsession, not love. It consumes you. I'm troubled to see you letting it get in the way of stability, Kael'thas. You're going to risk the entire Sunstrider legacy on one foolish woman?"

Kael'thas was hurt by it. He did not know what else to say, and made for the door.

"I've always warned you about this, Kael'thas. Do not become like your father."

"How dare you, Sorn! Saturna is nothing like Celestia, that bitch on wheels of flame-"

"I'm speaking of Anthene'alas! If you let the guilt rule you, over a woman you were never meant to have, then your enemies will have a field day with it, I've seen it. Now, go see to your next heir already, and the woman who got him or her just in time."

A series of blink spells empowered Kael'thas to get fast back down the hallway. "Starshine, what's wrong?"

"Rishka... she was here. With a knife."

"What? Did she get away?"

"Rishka burned violet, like arcane magic, and then just faded away. But I saw... other walls, towers... a whole other palace, Kael'thas. Right when the ground quaked. What is happening?"

Kael'thas braced himself. One more pulse. It was coming. Before it did, Sorn broke into their room and sent them both in a fit of horrified yells. It even brought Chao'thas from down the adjoining Prince's wing.

"Sorn! Don't do that, what's going on now?"

"It's Blaize... Dannox, rather."

"Who?"

"You won't believe who's behind all this Tyrande business, the very person to shut the High Priestess' mouth... but it's not for polite ears. Come. It can't wait."

And so, it did not.

When Blaize, Celestia, Dannox, Rachel, and yes, Faltheriel Darkweaver yet again-all were summoned into the Silvermoon castle, the leadership of the United Elven Alliance Social Club looked particularly smug.

Advisor Sorn informed King Kael'thas, "I'm sorry to tell you that Faltheriel was already settled in the Ghostlands, on your wife's old Sunthraze Estate at that. That's where the summoning sequence reached him."

Faltheriel winked, "I bought the land secretly through an affiliate when I know you would have resisted-that estate where Anasterian and Anthene'alas fell in love and made you, well it's the ultimate Kael'thas fanboy prize, of course. Well, aside from the man himself."

Kael'thas covered his face, then pulled his hair, streaking dark from Demon magic and stress. "I sense that I'm being blackmailed again. It better be good, Blaize, or you really will die, this time."

"Vashj's henchwoman stole Dannox's baby. When Novia bragged to him about it, via polite and frivolous correspondence, I was the one Dannox turned to, I figured it out. And, also, because Big Dan and I are such good friends, he won't drop the charges against Novia, Vashj and Malfurion, unless I say so. Then, your clever step-mother also perceived how this situation might upset High Priestess Tyrande, and that Tyrande would then fight with Illidan to get it fixed. Illidan, of course, belongs to you... clearly, there is unscrupulous collaboration going on, spanning two worlds over-"

"Oh yeah? Just what the hell do you think is going on, you old, fat-"

"I also know what your great secret is, and what these tremors have been about. We felt them in Dalaran too. I have every single key for every single lock on the shackles binding your wrists at the moment, Kael'thas."

Kael'thas did not believe it, Blaize did not possess the magical acumen. "Alright, I want this man seized, and finally finished off."

Celestia put her handsome bulk in the way, struck fists against hips. "Kael'thas, it all has to do with your step-mommy's little golden book, a rare artifact made from pristine drops from the original Well of Eternity. No matter what, no matter how a person might obscure natural events-this diary tells the truth." She then waggled it before all their faces.

Blaize nodded, "Oh, and there is going to be a high price, to match what I had to endure in order to put the damned pieces together. You know what I want, Kael'thas."

"You can't have Saturna."

"I want-blast it! Enough with Saturna. I am a Blood Elf. Quel'thalas is my home. I want the banishment lifted for myself and for Celestia. Immediately."

"That can only happen if what you tell me is actually helpful, Blaize."

"Fair enough, Kael'thas. You're going to hate me once you see how big it is, though."

Prince Chao'thas was there-he wasn't supposed to be. A snicker, "Wow, I think mom once described this same kind of argument happening before with you two, at the Black Temple. Hold on, I'll go get the measuring tape..."

Kael'thas turned to his son, Demon horns suddenly fully grown out. "Would you like to make that joke again, Teenaged Mutant Ninja Naga Slayer? You drop-out from Dalaran University after I spent all of that bribe money? Because now is not the time to waste another moment, by tempting your father to flay you alive!"

"...Yes sir."

Then, Blaize began to tell Kael'thas the entire story. It would have been nice if all the suspects could have been in the room, but those available reclined on chairs or leaned against tables and did their best to be paired off or guilty-looking.

Tempest with Sunthraze,

Chao'thas and his Father the King,

Pyorin with Daphne scrutinizing everything.

Sorn surely thought of Liadrin,

and glinted eyes, disgusted at Fennore pondering Mavia too,

Magnus the Unmaker whistled idly,

playing in his mind,

with the old minion-zoo.

Dannox chancing hungry looks at everyone,

worse than Faltheriel with head resting on lover's shoulder, it was sad.

But, you aren't there with them-aren't you glad?

Rachel Darkweaver stayed near proud Celestia,

gently whispered whether Blaize would tell it true?

"Alright you feckless young people," he said (almost in Shadowstep style!) "This involves each and every last miserable one of you."

"Last Fall, when I was stuck in Dalaran, I started reading my wife's diary because I hated living in the fast and declining Gnomish district. I wanted something to blackmail her with, and so get out of Kael'thas' enforced banishment. Oh, and I did find out, by the way Kael'thas, that your step-mother actually asked to be my jailor, and you let her."

Kael'thas shrugged. "If you don't get that I hate you, by now Blaize-we'll need a team of wild zhevra to drag it through your ears."

Sunthraze was glaring harder than Kael'thas, though. Blaize got an old, familiar feeling from the annoying young red-headed Bloodknight, but he chose not to follow it. "That is beside the point. My wife has been employed at tracking salacious events that have happened in Quel'thalas, for decades. In fact, her notes are so good that she even writes a newspaper column, gets paid," he lied a tiny bit here, "incredibly well, for dazzling readers two worlds over with horrible truths. I was alarmed, more than once, to find that her stories-based on notes from that gold book-did not match my memory of events. I first took it seriously when I read that Queen Anthene'alas had been assassinated."

Everyone there reacted. They believed, as had Blaize, that the Queen died in her sleep. Kael'thas tugged his son by the shoulder, to keep him going over to hit the General.

"If your intention is to malign my mother-my real mother, Blaize... I shouldn't have to even threaten you this far."

"I am going somewhere with this. That book," Celestia handed it to Blaize, "Is really a piece of work. In fact, it's crazy. It's vengeful. It tried to take off one of my fingers once. But, that was because our situation, our reality right now, is so distressed. Our present has been altered."

Magnus twined fingers into ebon tresses. "Yes, my wonderful Magnus Opus was a tell-all, a magnificent tell-all. The most tragic story set to music man has ever known-"

Fennore said, "Just because Master Kael'thas hasn't punished you for exposing him yet, Magnus, doesn't mean he won't kill you and then wait for you to self-resurrect if you even know how. And, that's what Coven Master does, only if he likes you."

Kael'thas agreed.

"I'm moving on," warned Blaize. "Yes, our present has been altered, because the past was tampered with. Anthene's death is the key. Someone traveled back, through time, to murder your mother."

Daphne uncrossed her arms. "But why? If some villain were to change the past, then why remake the world as a paradise, with the Alliance and the Horde getting along and Arthas banished? Beyond that, what would killing a woman, who was already fated to be sickly and die achieve, in the end? Kael'thas, I don't know why we're listening to this-"

Blaize brought the conversation back, another time. "Yes, every single one of you Bloodknights should act so guilty. A great threat to Quel'thalas has been wandering around this last decade, unchecked, and nobody did anything about it."

"Excuse me, Blaize, but I happened to be starting a family, having a baby with my husband Pyorin!"

"Fine time to have baby!" Celestia thundered. "Women should be smarter, more strategic. And after Kael'thas practically made a deal with Lady Vashj the devil herself, then he was acquitted of real crimes against mortals, and you all still followed him? To Outland and the Black Temple, to Tempest Keep, Icecrown and where next? Probably directly to Hell."

"Mother, that was harsh. Didn't I make up for it, by taking on Illidan like some thousands of years' old, deranged Demon orphan?"

"You Sunstrider men and your obsessions with power-That Demon man is a proven addictive personality, getting away with murder, then you bind yourself to him? That's possibly, exponentially WORSE!" Celestia turned to a bookshelf, and Rachel helped her calm.

Blaize continued, "Daphne, I did wonder, for a long time, what the reason could possibly be, for slaughtering a frail Queen of Quel'thalas already due to die. That was the lynchpin, it turned out. Later, I was so focused on money troubles, and worrying about Celestia to see the reason. Then, I was thrown off by Lady Vashj's henchwoman Novia... and the whole thing just seemed impossible, that reality itself might be broken. Who would ever want it that way? But, after finding myself in a certain, horrifying situation..."

Dannox bowed, as if that was what Blaize was after.

Fennore plucked at his bottom lip while he looked from one man to the other. Magnus snorted laughter and Mavia began to purr.

The fourth warlock in the room, Kael'thas, shut his eyes. "Faltheriel, did you go and seduce my old General, just to get back at me? If so, then that's one thing I will apologize for, Blaize. No man should have to endure that kind of torture."

Dannox seized attention back with his baritone. "King Kael'thas Olvi'athon Sunstrider, I don't believe we've really been introduced. I'm the big handsome tree-druid shagging this guy. Oh, and her too."

"Oh gods..."

Rachel huffed, "And a lot of other people too, apparently."

Tempest exhaled a long drag of cigarette. "Yeah, Dan-something. You should stop doing that. You'll end up losing the real one you love, and then in bed with Kael'thas over the whole Olvi'athon wife-eater thing..."

Sunthraze leaned around and covered his wife's mouth. "Blaize, please do go on with this sad, sad way of measuring it out, at your age."

"Anyway, it occurred to me, at last, that Dannox's ex-girlfriend, Lady Novia, was far too involved in everything. And I mean all of it, the United Elven Social Club, my mysterious being... absconded with and silenced one night at Cantrips, and then she sends Dannox this letter, afraid to sign it, bragging that she's birthed his baby. Novia had the child too many months before it was due..."

No one verbally interrupted Blaize this time, but Faltheriel had stopped cuddling Dannox and an angry Mrs. Rachel Darkweaver was now being restrained, by Celestia.

"Well, Novia must have been able to alter time, somehow. But, she's just not powerful enough. And if there was some kind of easy trick to it, then I'm sure the Bronze Dragonflight wouldn't be having its war. Novia had to be working for someone else. Celestia recorded in her diary that, years ago, directly after Arthas disappeared and Malfurion and Illidan were busy fighting over Tyrande at the Black Temple, Lady Novia was a priestess of Elune. She was a loyal servant, until Vashj-turned in to Darnassian custody by Jaina Proudmoore-began corrupting Moon Priestess Novia to join the side of the Naga."

Kael'thas realized, "Historically, Lady Vashj is the only other surviving Moon Cult priestess, besides High Priestess Tyrande."

Sorn sighed then, and Kael'thas accused him of holding out. "Well, your Majesty, it's just that I've seen this all before. Elven priestesses of the ancient cults getting violent over who has access to what power... I'd heard rumors that the goddess Elune no longer favored Tyrande, but I didn't believe the deity would embrace Lady Vashj, in her place."

"Isn't there a Sun Cult also, that we should be worried about, Sorn?"

He hesitated. "The last priestess of the Sun Cult wasn't so talented. She was a witch your father eventually, um, threatened."

Pyorin clarified for everyone, "Threatened is Sunstrider talk for 'took revenge against, then murdered.' In Kael'thas' defense, that isn't the case with the royal house anymore, nor the so-called guilty Bloodknights, Blaize, when _you're_ still living."

Blaize said, "I'm not concerned about anyone's reckless final battle. I just want money, lots of it, and a place to live that's right here, at home. The way to get all that is to tell you who is behind everything. The time-traveller, the murderer, the one who trespassed against all of us, is, evidently, Lady Vashj."

"That's impossible. Illidan would have told me if Vashj was up to anything."

"He lied to you before, Kael'thas. Illidan had me wasting the lives of Blood Elf soldiers at the Black Temple all because he wanted to play some game between you and Saturna. And, it turned out Vashj was behind that also. Then, she put the collar around your neck and I had to watch the fallout at Tempest Keep."

Kael'thas raised his eyebrows. A snarl curled his lip. "She can't have crossed me. We made a pact. Everything came out, according to our deal."

"Everything, Kael'thas," said Celestia, "Except that your mother did not get a chance to live out her life, that's what the diary says. Even as an invalid, Queen Anthene'alas deserved every moment."

Kael'thas covered his face. "It's a good thing Saturna is upstairs, I wouldn't want her to know all of this. In this scheming, I failed my own mother. I didn't even know her, but I grew up to destroy her."

Celestia came near him. "Listen, step-son. I am going to tell you something only your father Anasterian knew about me. I admired Anthene'alas. I studied her... for unsavory reasons. But her story is still one of hope and light. She gave life to you, under very unpleasant and impossible circumstances-"

"Oh, what do you know!"

"Because it was always my goal to impersonate her! So, then, I know everything about your family."

Hush.

She softened, "Kael'thas, your dealing with so much unpredictable magic was dangerous, but in the end, it was Vashj who took the knife and put it to Anthene's throat, not you. You are her beloved son, then, now, and forever. Don't take on that guilt."

"Actually," Blaize began to pace, "Anthene'alas committed suicide. Lady Vashj did not want to leave any evidence of her being forced-there wasn't any mentioned in the diary. I assume Vashj must have used her dream magic, in the same way she once influenced us all at the Black Temple, through Path'raxxis the Seer. A manipulation of one's deepest desires or worst fears, night after night, until finally the victim plays out vicious behavior. As for Vashj, she gets a plush seat with popped-corn to watch on the sidelines."

Sorn didn't like it. "This is too convenient for you Blaize. Vashj is a direct threat to your United Elven Alliance Social Club, it's almost wise to target her as the murderer, the time traveler, all of it. Just because the woman is a flagrant bitch and powerful enough, doesn't mean she did wrong. Celestia knows what I mean."

Blaize spoke through clenched teeth, "I'm no mage. I assume it happened through Nazjatar, somehow. Azeroth's been unstable ever since Arthas ransacked our city and spoiled the Sunwell. The specifics aren't my problem, you all are the magisters and scientists who can plumb every bleeding mystery. But in the meantime, consider the- well, absurdity of the damned social club in the first place. Since when have we elves cared so much about one another?"

Dannox was shocked. "I care about my Faltheriel, and then you and Celestia-and Kael'thas by default, cause he's so sexy."

Kael'thas glinted at Faltheriel, for making 'another one.'

Blaize waved Dannox off, "That's just obsession. And... well, yes you're my friend." then hurried on, "But Darnassus and Silvermoon don't need anything from one another. It's not a natural idea of ours."

"Well, Vereesa and Sylvanas Windrunner founded the group after fighting by my side against Arthas."

"But who took it over from them? Who almost ran it into the ground, with Vashj's games? Lady Novia. And who cares so much about both Silvermoon and Darnassus and all that wealth?"

Sorn rolled eyes, "It could be any number of people."

"Lady Vashj once had access to both, before she was cursed and forced to become a Naga. Before her Queen Azshara committed all Highborne to the Burning Legion, at the beginning of time. This has all become obvious to me, because my wife and Faltheriel are running the club and I see how much they go through, but aren't any of you all at least a little bit disturbed by how intensely the world has been concerned with Naga these last few years? It shouldn't be. We aren't at that particular expansion pack, just yet."

They all went 'aaah' and nodded that it was true.

"The United Elven Alliance Social Club is exactly what Vashj wants of the world, but in miniature."

Celestia coiled arm around her husband's. "Not to mention that it takes a certain kind of menacing, feminine acuity to realize not all revolutions happen on the battlefield. This is a violent cultural revolution Vashj has set off. She wants it to be trendy, and on the tongues of the fashionable. You should have seen how angry her henchwoman Novia became, when I didn't want any of our ladies voting to let Naga into the club."

Sunthraze boggled, "How can it really be possible that Saturna is not the biggest fangirl in this story? I always assumed Vashj was far too sophisticated for this kind of revenge."

Sorn threw his hands up. "And it's all so subtle! Too subtle, almost a nonexistent effort. The reality is, Blaize, that two worlds are now at peace, because of my sovereign's sacrifice, and you're making up any kind of fool story to get property, a title, and whatever else you think you're still owed after a decade. You're the consistent one throughout this mess, Blaize, you've not changed."

Kael'thas had the final word. "No. That's just it, Sorn. That is how Lady Vashj operates. She's subtle, seductive, or else sweetens deals. If you can't resist her, then at the least, you wont be denying her. An evil queen. Of course this was Vashj's project all along. Dammit! Why didn't I see this before? That old hag wasn't offering me anything genuine on that day when I bargained to keep Saturna and Belorim safe. I knew something was coming over the years, in fact, I've been waiting for it, in the back of my mind. This is finally it."

Fennore shook his head. "Vashj planned this almost ten years ago? In that case, especially after practically reinventing the course of history with vile magics, then shouldn't things have gone off more seamlessly for her? A warlock wouldn't waste the chance, I can't believe the so-called Queen of the reformed Naga made so many errors."

Kael'thas corrected Fennore. "It's possible she built on things as she went, getting a taste for more, the more she was able to get away with... Hold on a second, the lei lines! Could Vashj be behind disrupting those as well, Sorn?"

"Do you mean, not just uniting the world behind Naga in all the trendy cities, but also in a physical way? That would make the most sense, actually."

Sunthraze screwed up his face. "So, she's trying to rip up and then squish Silvermoon and Darnassus together? That's insane."

Daphne worried, "It'd destroy the world."

Magnus looked bored, "Dun, dun dunnnnn..."

"That was exactly Queen Azshara's kingdom, so many thousands of years ago, a dominion over all elves." Sorn scratched his beard. "Not really so surprising. Except, even I can see that it won't work. She'll make some earthquakes and some waves, maybe, but if mages could change the face of the planet, alone, then so many evil people would have done it by now. Arthas ruled over the dead, don't you think he'd have gone further if it were that easy?"

Celestia was tired of Sorn needlessly contradicting her husband. "Well then maybe Vashj had some assistance, beyond Novia. Maybe Malfurion."

Kael'thas paced while his son Chao'thas watched. The young Prince was eerily quiet.

"No, Malfurion is under some powerful Naga hex tied to Vashj's Highborne form-she even argues with him, from time to time, so that Malfurion thinks it's an authentic romance." said Kael'thas, "Illidan and I thought it was hilarious, though, so we left Vashj to play with him."

At last, the Sunstrider Prince spoke up. "Dad. I know you're going to hate me for saying this, but... it's Illidan."

"Why are you so stuck against Demons?"

"Demon magic is highly addictive. The people who use it are changed. There is, in fact, no such thing as using Demon magic wisely. It's like thinking you can go each day, eating rat poison but still, somehow, be disciplined enough to avoid the side affects. How many times have I asked you to quit?"

"Son, this definitely not the time-"

"It's why you can't see it. This is so obvious. Maybe Vashj was even leaning on that. Illidan is a Demon, Bloodknights are obsessed with getting to Demons by any means. So that also rules out mother or the others ever suspecting. Between the users and the free, are those stuck recovering from Demon magic addiction, and they're too ashamed to speak out, to recognize how it seduced and used them back. And isn't that how you feel right now, frightened that if you confess to the rest of them, like you did to me once that summer before university... that sometimes Illidan gets out of your control and you can't remember where he goes or what he does to you? You're a grown man and a King and a father, and a hero... okay, so also a terrifying villain and the most powerful warlock in existence, but the Demon magic gets to you, sometimes, doesn't it? How can you set about saving the world, yet again, if you don't first admit that you still have a problem?"

Kael'thas took a startled sweep of the room.

Sunthraze whispered something to Tempestraven.

"Are you two making fun of me, even now?"

Tempest shook her head, no. "It's just such a touching father-son scene, after so very long. Don't you think so, Blaize?" The two redheads gave Blaize a death-glare.

Blaize tried to ignore whatever foolishness it must have been. "So then, is this life-saving revelation worth the title and land you promised me most of all, gods-know how many years ago, Kael'thas?"

He sighed. "Son of a bitch. Sorn, set up."

"My King, it's dangerous to do so! A great enemy to the House of Sunstrider directly in our backyard? Or, did you forget he already took over this kingdom with that witch over there."

Screaming ended their conversation.

Kael'thas rallied the Bloodknights and got moving. "I'm going to make sure Saturna is still alright. Sorn, try and find out where the hell Illidan is right now. Perhaps a bitter old Highborne pretender can't reduce Azeroth to ruins by herself, but a full Demon Lord on the perilous way to enforced recovery, he might be crazed enough to try helping."

Which left Sorn alone with Blaize and his little circus. Which is what Sorn called it to their faces.

"Chief Advisor, when are you just going to finally admit that Kael'thas was right to promote me all those years ago at the Black Temple? I am the best Sunfury recruit after Voren'thall, and it should be painfully obvious to you, by now."

"Nathaniel Blaize, you may be a sound fighter, but you aren't a good man. Wait and see, one day you'll find out you've got some other years' old scheme gone wrong, waiting to bite you, or wayward sons or daughters wandering around someplace. Misfortune will all descend upon you in your comfortable retirement like so many voracious vultures."

"Ah, so this is about Liadrin? We were young, Sorn, and it took you too long to speak up. These things happen."

Sorn heated, but Celestia pointed in his face. "You, sir, just try and scheme us, here and now, out of the best land in Quel'thalas. I'll go right to my step-son or better yet, my diary and make sure I can find some horrible things due to happen to you."

"It's not me you should be worried about." Sorn got a ledger from the desk, flipped pages, and pricked pen-point to the edge of his tongue. "Your friends are the ones living on that old Sunthraze Estate, which is the best land in the kingdom. If you want to have it all so badly, you'll have to cross them. Shall I disinherit the Darkweavers now, or later, once you have the time to chill your hearts so far?"

Faltheriel was incredulous. Celestia tried to hide her excitement over all the new, wonderful power she and her winning husband finally inherited by hook or by-

"We'll take the other one on your map then, over there-"

"But that's haunted land, in the thick of the Ghostlands, Blaize!" shouted Celestia.

"We can always move, or work our way up as we did before. Kael'thas needs the charges dropped against Vashj so that she doesn't suspect she's a target and he can have the time needed to form a plan. A pissed off Darkweaver family will not listen to me, and help that to happen. It's the only way, Celestia. I told Kael'thas I would assist him. Sorn wants us to pick wrong and lose everything." the two gentlemen shared a look, "But, General Nathaniel Blaize has always been a man of his word."

Blaize signed the land contract and handed the pen off to Celestia.

She hated it, she wanted so scream louder than even that hated Saturna did at that moment. But, she put her large mark all over the page and demanded Sorn get the best carriage in all the land to take them to their new hovel.

To Blaize she sneered, "I hate you more freshly than ever-"

Blaize whispered, "Here, have a kiss, and remember that I've always been able to maneuver Dannox. I'd not have bet our futures on any less."

"Oh well in that case, my handsome husband, this time... can I watch?"

"Celeste, you tigress," he used golden diary to bat the end of her nose, "not like _that_."

Note: Oh, there's totally more...


	22. Crazy Stuff

**MLFMP**-An epic tale of fangirl delusion, Bloodknight zealotry and heartfelt recovery.

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Craaaaazy stuff. So THAT's what's really going on?**

Le Rishka rubbed her thumb along the slight ball of Saturna's throat and then along the warm, tense side of her neck.

"Why go through all of that? And you and Lady Vashj are the same person? I don't understand... just to kill Kael'thas' real mother?"

Le Rishka's blue Highborne eyes gleamed in the early morning darkness. The plan was wonderful to speak about, it had been such an exceptional thrill, even now.

"Forget about the mystery of me being two women at once, when I've always been that good-to count as two. So many years ago, Queen Anthene'alas was going to die, anyways. Not only had she been ill for years, but Anasterian was torturing her. I did her a favor. In any case, the results were the same. Kael'thas grew up exposed to the Venom-madness of his father, he tread a dark path that eventually brought him to myself and Illidan at the Black Temple. What I really needed out of all this, Saturna, was one extra day."

"Anthene'alas needed to die one day earlier, for you do to what? I don't understand how this makes any sense, even to a megalomaniac sorceress!"

Le Rishka pressed a palm over Saturna's mouth. "I thought this was your final request, to understand why you've been kept in the dark about your son. If so, then let me tell it. Once upon a time, many years ago, I made a pact with your husband Kael'thas, to save a little boy named Belorim. I was to also bind his lover, a pawn named Saturna, in the deal, and third, I was going to prevent the world drawing to an end. Not an easy thing for a beautiful megalomaniac sorceress to do. But I discovered a way. The child-your child-turned out to be an anomaly. Taking Belorim down below the ocean, and into the Maelstrom would force events, however Arthas' meddling changed them, to continue flowing in a way to account for Belorim's very existence. Therefore, the woman Kael'thas wanted-you, for some reason-would still find her way to the Black Temple. She would still fall for him, jump on him, whatever... with my Shuru'kaal, of course. Except that, when I ventured beneath the Maelstrom, to Nazjatar and entered into the safety of our conjured waters with Belorim, I decided to run another little errand of my own. However, I made a grave mistake. The first time."

Saturna kept asking, for answers to anything and everything.

"Well, I wanted the Naga curse lifted. There was a lover I also wanted, if Kael'thas was going to scheme to get you. So, I started a civil war, took control of Nazjatar away from Queen Azshara and then ordered the punishment of green skin and scales to end, myself. But, I soon found that only Azshara had the power to do so, because she was the one who sold the Highborne out to the Burning Legion, so many thousands of years ago. Ugh, and so for that reason, after sealing all your fates, I still needed one extra day. Another chance to take Nazjatar, but this time, not kill my Queen."

"How did you even get back through time? I know that I can be obsessive sometimes, but Le Rishka-or Vashj, whomever you are... this is worse than insane, it's sad."

"No, I am not the one burdened with instability. The world of Azeroth is spinning mad off its axis because the Sunwell is tainted. So, everything is a lot more fluid than it might seem. After we accidentally murdered Aszhara, it took Wave-Commander Scyth'lerin and myself five years to develop, from existing Naga magics, a way to use the Maelstrom as a means to travel through the... well, I'm going to have to dumb it down for you, Saturna, it's as if we sort of tunneled through the world using one powerful dark Naga lei line, and once we penetrated the Sunwell through its wound, on Quel'danas Isle, all manner of vile things became available to us. We burst the dam, so to speak, which was keeping magical possibilities at bay. I didn't dare tamper with anything else, except for the one event we'd decided could not be missed, nor remembered-that lily-souled Anthene'alas who was meant to go pitiful into the night, in any case! Our five years of waiting were worth it, Saturna. Afterward, everything went according to plan. Anasterian ruled, died, Quel'thalas was spoiled and Kael'thas went to Outland. You followed, as a Nexite. Tempest Keep burned, Arthas left what he called 'The Game', and you remained loyal by Kael'thas' side, no matter what. Meanwhile, I had returned from Nazjatar once time returned to its bookmark. I handed Belorim off to Illidan, and she was so thrilled to finally have a son, Tyrande refused to go back to Malfurion. And, then, getting Tyrande out of the way freed Malfurion for me-with my new beautiful Highborne body. All thanks to Queen Azshara, who I've put in a cage with the one precious day I schemed for five long miserable years, to borrow back."

"And you say, in a past life, I killed Kael'thas rather than let him break off our engagement?"

"Mhrm."

"...and after I killed him, Illidan killed me and I went out of my way to come back from the dead to resurrect him, only to die again at Illidan's hands..."

"Yes, yes..."

"And then, I came back as a ghost-for a second time-"

"No, technically, you weren't a ghost the first time, blondie, you were just using an Inverted Divine Intervention spell..."

"Whatever... after all you said that I did, even the part where I supposedly haunted Kael'thas at Tempest Keep... this is worse. This is so far worse, Vashj. Unless you made up this entire story about me being a zealous fangirl just to save face when yours is way, way worse?"

"You really DID all those things! Look here, Saturna, you wanted the truth and you got it."

"Then how did I bear Illidan's child?"

"What does that matter? He regrets it, and I don't want to back and live in a world where Illidan is so debilitated by guilt that the Triumvirate loses the whole of Outland."

"But I can't imagine ever falling for Illidan-"

"Oh, trust, you didn't. He has better taste."

"Wait, are you jealous? Because you sound jealous."

"I'm over Illidan."

"Hehe, uh-oh, I don't think you are..." Saturna winked, "Ho man, did this just get more interesting..."

"ARGH!" The other woman hissed. "Le Rishka is a past version of myself-Vashj, adept at seduction. Why would I care who Illidan chose over me-whom he chose, I meant to say." Saturna laughed harder, "Do you want to know why I decided to go back in time, the second journey around? It's because I am, in fact, interested in more than fixing people up, or getting a man of my own. I have ambitions, a career. Saturna, I generally don't do henchwomen-but Novia was a find and also swift at navigating polite society. Other than her, I could only really trust myself, to do what I wanted to get done. So, I went back the second time to get Le Rishka, a copy of the ancient, powerful seductress in order to set to work stealing this kingdom, while I worked on the other side, getting Malfurion to fight Tyrande for what was left of Darnassus. Both men were to gift their shares to me, through marriage. And then, the whole of Quel'thalas would have been restored to the one who worked harder than Azshara ever did, to keep the kingdom going. Oh, and then there was a third trip back in time, to hurry along Novia's baby when I needed that."

"Oh, gods, how many times did you murder or twist someone else's life, just to make yourself look younger, or feel more spry. Haha! Some women just use face-cream..."

Le Rishka honestly smiled. "I just remembered something else about my wonderful plan. Now is the part where finally I kill you."

The door flew open and Le Rishka yanked Saturna up into a headlock.

"Put the knife down, Le Rishka." Kael'thas conjured fire and pointed, with hand ablaze. He was flanked by Bloodknights.

"No. I am the one in control. Your pretty pregnant wife wanted to know, what happened the very first time she was carrying your child, and I was on the verge of finally telling her. You know that's worse than the knife."

Kael'thas' guise flashed desperate. "I am the one you want to fight. So, let's do it. Now."

Rishka flashed the gold knife flat in lantern-light, then back again. "The secret is in his name. You were so desperate, after Illidan took you Saturna... you turned to your faith, resorted to needy belief in happy fluffy things, once again, to get you through such terrible pain..."

"Rishka-Vashj! Stop it, now. General Blaize and a golden book touched by the original Well of Eternity helped me figure out all that you've done. Vashj, do you really think I am going to let you take everything from me, again, and walk out of here?"

"Do you remember? How he tore a hole through the desk, licked up your leg with the full force of his dark magic, like so many icy, skittering eager things to the untrained..."

Kael'thas shouted over her, "You killed my mother and then coerced me into having sex with you!" A few faces nearby flushed red, and regarded him with shock and horror. Someone started laughing. "Shut, up, Sunthraze!"

"Kssss... Rishka! Attack them-"

A violet conjuring seared the air behind Le Rishka. Another Highborne woman emerged from it and struck arms out, to thread black lightning directly into her victim. Le Rishka arched her back, a cry cracked over their heads. Saturna hastened out of bed and into Kael'thas' arms.

The two Le Rishkas tangled magic, then locked arms in enraged wrestling.

"Bloodknights, take down Vashj!"

But which one was the real Vashj?

Kael'thas lost it, once the Bloodknights began complaining. "Dammit, Magnus, I thought you'd fixed the severe lack of handling basic shit among the Knights of the Blood Nexus!"

Daphne stepped forward all of a sudden and threw a bucket of water on Rishka and Vashj. One woman screamed, complained that she was melting, melting, when the Naga form she was forced into lost integrity and could not keep for long.

"Everyone, I figured out that the old version of Lady Vashj, Le Rishka, was never affected by the Naga curse, because she lived before the Legion got to the Well of Eternity-that would have been precisely the period in history Vashj traveled back to, and took Le Rishka from. Therefore, Le Rishka is now living in a world where Naga did get cursed. Present-day Naga only turn into scaley green monsters if they get wet-"

Tempestraven smoked, "A-la the movie Splash."

"Why thank you, TR..."

"Yer welcome."

"Yes, so, not unlike some other beloved story of magic and almost star-crossed love, Le Rishka must have been able to dry herself off all those other times, and so prevent the full effects, but not with this much conjured water! A whole, um, bucket-full. The water doesn't affect Lady Vashj because she usurped Azshara's power to control the curse whenever she wants."

Some silent moment passed while everyone recovered from Daphne's sudden rash of nerd-girl snort laughing. "Well I dunno, I thought it was awesome of me to figure out on the way upstairs, does no one else get it? Wait, I'll explain it again."

Vashj moved, and all the Bloodknights paused, training weapons back onto her.

Pyorin spoke over his shoulder, "It is really so adorable of you, Daphs, but, we need to hurry up and stop Lady Vashj before she razes two different hemispheres of Azeroth in order to smush Darnassus and Silvermoon together, in one giant, new version of the original elven empire..." he took a breath, "to place both cities directly over the land Queen Azshara would have become dispossessed of, if only Vashj had killed the queen thousands of years ago, before getting stuck with Illidan and King Nerdboy over here... Heh, this unmaking stuff is pretty good. I actually do understood what in the crap Blaize told us downstairs."

Kael'thas sighed, "Yes, Blaize's interpretation of events recorded in my step-mother's diary and Vashj's sudden fixation on both Silvermoon, Darnassus, and the United Elven Alliance Social Club was oddly astute for a banished man with nothing better to do, over the last ten years... Once again, I'm forced to regret the decision I made not to just murder that General Asshat. For now, though, Bloodknights I just want you all to seize Vashj and put her into custody..." then in that same even tone of voice, "Dammit, the witch-woman has disappeared, yet again. Magnus!"

Magnus the Unmaker was standing over melted Le Rishka, playing at trying to re-animate her. Though, what he could have seen in another conjured pet already so far dilapidated, is anyone's guess.

"Don't you think you've unmade enough of your enemies? And, your friends?" Kael'thas groaned. "Have the Bloodknights get their horses, Magnus, I'll ask Illidan where Vashj must have gone..."

But, when Kael'thas checked, a powerful blast sent his own demand back to him, through the Soul Link. There was only one way Kael'thas knew of, for Illidan to be able to block him out, like that. And, it must have been how Illidan had been conspiring to keep Tyrande at all costs, even for Vashj and against himself, this entire time without Kael'thas' knowing. Of course, Vashj must have worked to maneuver Illidan too, from her side. It was the only way she would have been able to get so far.

"We ride for Azshara." Kael'thas informed his knights. "And then, if we can survive seeing all of that Queen-of-fangirls style destruction, we're going into the Maelstrom itself-the black, watery maw of hell."

As if there wasn't enough going on, Chao'thas stood in the doorway, blocking the dramatic exeunt. "I am a self-made Demon Hunter, father. Illidan and Vashj hurt mother somehow, and wrecked so many other lives. Let me come with you and the Knights of the Blood Nexus."

Fennore reminded that the Coven of Two was present as well, in a sing-song voice. Mavia the man-eating succubus reached over and used a clawed hand to pinch Tempest's cigarette directly out.

"Boy, you wasted my good money, started an underground gang of thugs in Dalaran-and I thought this family's reputation of sending awkward Sunstrider Princes off to school couldn't get any worse. Obviously, you've learned nothing from your time away and the answer from your father, the angry King Bloodmage and Keeper of the Demon Lord's Soul is a flaming NO." Kael'thas spelled letters in the air between them, using a finger pointed in red glove and several glittering orange embers.

Saturna hugged her husband, then got hold of Chao'thas, when he became emotional and tried to lash out after his father, anyways. "You never let me do anything, Father, because of your secrets at the Black Temple and Tempest Keep... That's really what's ruined my life. And, obviously, I thought staying clear of Demonic influence and shifty Naga women was, in fact, the big family lesson!" Finally, Chaothas swiped a hand with claw-blades through the smoking 'NO', then turned back to cry on his mother's shoulder.

"Kael'thas," Saturna said, "What happened, with Illidan? When you return-and I have full faith that you will-please, love, you have to tell me."

Kael'thas did not know what to say. He placed a hand on her shoulder, then left.

General Blaize, of course, had already gone with everyone else to enjoy his newfound freedom. When the warparty got to the Throne Room, Lady Liadrin offered to command the Sunfury Army for Kael'thas, if Lieutenants Dacian and Falx could no longer be trusted, since that Blaize was back. Her tone had been bitter, and her guise was deathly serious.

Kael'thas was handed the reigns of his golden Hawkstrider, and mounted up. "I never believed that I would ever say this, Liadrin, but... Nathaniel Blaize is a decent man. He was a patriot for Quel'thalas, in the end. The first time Blaize took Silvermoon, it was because of my less-than-stellar record ruling Outland-I've had time to think about it and give him that, at least. And, today, when I needed the truth to protect my wife, the stability of this kingdom, absolutely everything-all Blaize wanted in exchange was a chance to live quietly, and alone in the countryside. The only thing I can't understand about his arrangement is why he's still with Celestia, nor why wants to keep Faltheriel-" a shudder, "Darkweaver as his neighbor."

Liadrin opened her mouth in shock. "Oh, I don't care what he claims to want, that fat, arrogant-"

"Magnus, Fennore and Mavia only have enough magic to safeguard myself and the Bloodknights as we travel through the Maelstrom, Liadrin. I um, just in case Blaize does turn out to be an epic douche after three whole sequels, I will entrust the army and the city to you. But, mostly, I think the real situation with the old hair-dyed General is what I learned long ago, one crazy day when I watched the man piss himself: he is, just mortal, after all." Not to mention that Blaize saved Kael'thas' arse, by not sharing a choice secret about Saturna's past with Illidan-to which there was a fast tacit promise made between the two men, neither would speak about. So, Kael'thas alone understood that he now owed Blaize for two reasons. Clever, general-ing bastard.

Sorn placed a hand on Liadrin's shoulder, while Kael'thas and his Bloodknights left. Not long after, Prince Chao'thas departed on a black Hawkstrider, to sneak past palace guards, after them.

"Oh no-"

Sorn said, "Liadrin, leave it. I've spoken to Chao'thas many times. Kael'thas would not agree, but the latest Prince of Quel'thalas is, once again, more capable than his father the King realizes. Settling the score with Illidan and Vashj is Chao'thas' fight too. And, I've also seen that boy has some very good magic, in that simple metal blades never could be chatted up, tricked, or otherwise seduced by fel energies."

Liadrin drew the Whiteblade and sat in the red throne. She leaned over the sword, polite folded hands and chin on its pommel. "Very well. But don't tell me what to do to Celestia, if she comes in here-I don't care what Kael'thas thinks of Blaize, that woman is still and always will be a monster. It isn't finished yet with those two, in my opinion, not by a longshot... what are you laughing at, dear? The world's at yet another ending... What _is _it, Sorn? Tell me."

He barely got it out. "It's just that... you almost look like that awful painting-the porn-trait, sitting like that."

Liadrin sat up straight. "By the gods, I was just sure a moment ago, that I didn't know what you were talking about, but now I see it clearly..."

Sorn also realized, looking disturbed, "How could Kael'thas have ever made a painting-even a tasteless one-in memoriam to Saturna, if she never died at the Black Temple? Are we remembering wrong?"

"Oh gods, Sorn. I don't see how that's possible..."

Whatever Vashj was getting up to, beneath the Maelstrom, she was unravelling this fiendishly fast. Kael'thas and his Bloodknights would not get there in time.

_In the Spirit World..._

Thrall, Belorim and May grabbed hold of one another when they found the source of the planet's elemental corruption, a black taint stabbed deep into the ethereal earth, directly beneath the afterlife's mirror of the Sunwell. In that place, a shade of Frostmourne reached up to the sky, gargantuan. The blue bruise of the afterlife stressed at every humming edge of the flow of energies. There was a crack in the sky of the very spirit world. It had been pierced through for a long time, but recently, it had burst and shattered in several places around the massive silvery hilt. This rend in space and time had been found and taken serious advantage of, by someone very cruel and powerful, again and again.

"I see that you've finally come." went a roiling voice.

Thrall lifted his mace, and stood before the youths. "You're dealing not just with us, stranger, but the entire Earthern Ring, presently conjuring us here in this state from the Pool of Visions, in Thunderbluff. We are powerful army of shamans-"

Anasterian laughed, and introduced himself. "To remove that sword-shaped curse and heal the destruction it's wreaked upon the world, you need a Sunstrider more powerful than my son." A red wind-serpent and a gold one hissed simultaneously at the end of his speech. They uncoiled and took to the air, flying on either side of their master.

"Do you really expect to make some deal with the world of life, Anasterian?" Belorim dared, "History shows you were never a friend to Humans and not to Elves either. You could never be trusted to pursue anything that wasn't your own selfish agenda!"

Thrall quieted the young half-Blood Elf and tried again, "Anveena, who is more powerful than you are, Anasterian, already has your skull-"

"And my son Kael'thas became obsessed with it, ruined it, I know. Don't you think I've haunted as far across my lands as Quel'danas, when that's the place which worries me most? I've seen what happened to my own skull, of course. Nevermind what motivated Kael'thas to dig it up in the first place... blech. He was always an odd boy, that one."

"What deal are you offering us?" May wondered. "When Bim and I were younger, you made one with us that looked frightening, even then."

Anasterian crossed hands in front of his robes. "I accept that I am dead. I realize that there is a bliss greater than any wonderful thing I enjoyed in life, just beyond this Spirit World, and while my ghost lives on in this sort of, purgatoried state, I still have access to it. The fact that I am not, at present, burning in some personal hell of torture and oblivion after death is because some gracious fool-I care not to know who that is-has forgiven all the rotten things I've done while living. What I mean to say is, I've been waiting comfortably these last fifteen years, for people much like you to arrive-powerful, mortal heroes intent on preventing the inevitable cataclysmic result of this hideous marvel Prince Arthas stabbed so deep through the Sunwell that it penetrated into the world of the dead."

"No, it's only been ten years since Kael'thas left Azeroth for Outland, hoping to avenge your death, Anasterian." Thrall corrected, though Belorim disagreed.

"Warchief, that I'm even asking for your acquiescence is really only a formality when I have seen in this realm, behind myself and ahead of myself, the Naga storm coming through here, so very many times, when The Curse ended. Time itself has been tampered with, by none other than my son's playmate Lady Vashj. It's also blatantly obvious to me that Anveena and Kalec are having a pretty nasty fight with the Bronze Dragonflight right now, over it. I know exactly what's been going on, because I've been enjoying the view." Anasterian looked up and they followed his direction, astounded to see four colors of dragon: red, blue, bronze, and green, all battling for the real Sunwell just beyond the blue veil, in the world of life. "Damned shame we can't get any sound, though. Doesn't matter, however, when it's practically been narrated. There was a prophecy, once..."

Belorim got down on one knee, and then the other. "My father, Illidan said this would happen... Oh gods, oh by the elements, he was right about something? Illidan must have been right about a whole lot of other things too... ugh, I'm gonna be sick."

Anasterian agreed, "Yes, and it's too bad that the Oscur'shalak has had his brain messed with and no one believes his prophecies anymore. Well, except for Tyrande. But, she continues to be distracted by the man, Illidan, himself. Enough of that, though. Just as it was for me in life, when I was the pampered King of all that mattered. I want what I want, and you all have to give it to me."

"Blood and thunder... fine then, Anasterian. Tell us what it is you need, to get up there and fix that, and the Earthen Ring will grant it."

"It's nothing, really. Just a trick I've seen Anveena work once-in one version of this story anyways, and it doesn't even have to last for long. I only want a chance to finally say a proper goodbye to my sweet, and doting wife."

Belorim was confused. "Queen Anthene'alas? She isn't already here, in the Spirit World?"

Anasterian's features darkened. "I know how Anthene chose to die and leave me, before Lady Vashj meddled with the flow of things. I only have one wife left to bother. Make it possible for me to finally reunite with Celestia."

It was Thrall's decision. May the Tauren screwed up her face, really feeling how weird it all was. Belorim sighed, and shrugged when the Warchief wanted to know what might come of tangling with someone who was, in a spiritual way, Belorim's ancestor, through Kael'thas.

"I guess... I never did like that Celestia." Thrall scratched stubble on his chin, and then smoothed a finger over each of his fangs, out of habit. "You sure it isn't Vashj you want delivered? You said she's the one who brought it all crashing down, went as far as abusing your Sunwell, after Arthas..."

"Ah, Thrall. You can't trick me into fighting what is your war, against Lady Vashj. Even spirits need justice, and I only have one last thing keeping me here before passing on. I thought Farseers understood that the best. After I deal with Celestia, I can finally rest in peace."

"Well then, Anasterian, when it does seem harmless enough... I guess you've got a deal."

Warchief Thrall and the ghost of King Anasterian Sunstrider shook hands.

Then, all three shamans cast their totems at once. Bright fire lights made the wicked dead man smile. "By the way, Thrall, I almost wanted to go back in time and use that handy Frostshock spell on young Kael'thas, after seeing how you did it. That little fel-addicted Nerdboy might have come out right."

The sage Orc nodded. "Heh, and at the time, a part of me feared I might one day hear you say that, Annie. Now, if that isn't freaky, I don't know what is."

Belorim pouted. "...Illidan's prophecy."

May patted her husband's shoulder. "Eyup, that'd do it."

Next: Get the Dalorean revved up, we've got one more stop to make before the home-stretch!


	23. As Wolves Cherish Lambs

**MLFMP-** a story of fangirl delusion, Bloodknight zealotry and heartfelt recovery.

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Twenty-Three: As Wolves Cherish Lambs**

"...the friendship of a lover does not come from goodwill, but from something like the desire for a satisfying meal. As wolves cherish lambs..." -Socrates, The Phaedrus

(It is also important to know that I have taken this quote completely out of context.)

_About fifty years earlier, to the date..._

When Prince Anasterian made the final turn down that magnificent staircase, the last beautiful thing in the declining Sunthraze mansion, the lord of the house burst through a crowd of agitated servants and Silvermoon City guards, to yell and throw Anasterian into a headlock.

"You animal! How could you do that to'er!"

Anasterian cursed at the royal guards and their red shields. Little Roan Sunthraze was watching. He grabbed the servant Marie's skirt. In contrast, the round woman was grinning broad and shameless. Clearly, she was everyone's favorite maid for a reason-she was a charming witch.

No, actually a witch. One of the last remaining members of the Sun Cult. By trade, it was necessary for them to live duplicitous lives. When Anasterian finally discovered this, he also came to know exactly what he needed to do with Anthene'alas.

Anasterian braced himself, then used his younger strength to heft Lord Sunthraze up overhead, and then flip him hard, onto his back. Then, Anasterian dusted himself off, stepped over the Lord to descend the rest of the stairs, turned and waited for any more resistance.

"You shamed her, my sister's daughter. The only survivor of that tragedy-"

"And you, Lord Sunthraze, are drunk before the King of your country. Drunken and gambling the house to pieces." a black-gloved hand, gently lifted. "I, on the other hand, am acting perfectly. I am saving Anthene from all of this."

"You monster!" Lord Sunthraze fussed with his plaid riding cap, trying to get it back on, when he was clearly starting to feel intimidated. So distraught, his voice broke. "I-I can't hardly get it out. My own King... if you think you're gonna do this, just to enjoy what you want and then toss her out again, a frail and really sad creature... Oh, that's just cruel. Cruel! On my honor as a man, I'd have to murder you." stubby finger pointed.

The servants gasped, and cried out that the whole household would be taken away, in debt for those words. Anasterian raised a hand, and the royal guards ceased their approach.

"I take no threat, in that, Lord Sunthraze. Fortunately, I've already had sex with your neice, and so there can't be any saving of her."

They all screamed.

"Tyrant! No respect, no heart, no feeling... Oh gods! To take a woman so prone, hurting and vulnerable. He's cruel-what else will he be capable of? I never laid my eyes on such a heartless fiend! Spoiled my dear, dear, Anthene'alas..." her uncle wept.

Little Roann intervened, "Dad, stoppit, don't yell at the future King, or you'll get us in trouble. Annie and Anthene are in love... and that's what people should do, when they love each other. Plus, he's saving her. Annie's going to make her Queen, give her a life we never could!"

Anasterian winked. Marie the witch-servant hugged Roann close and, when so near to her employer, managed to drop smile for a moment. "Tut, tut. This one's perhaps too young, to understand mi'lord."

"And you can die, Marie, you filth! You were behind this all somehow, weren't you?"

Anasterian chose that moment to direct Marie back upstairs, to go and get the last of his fiancee's things.

Each precious object, a rocking chair, an ivory comb, a stuffed blue rabbit doll, sewn back together many times over the years, was fawned over as Marie flaunted each one, on her way down the stairs.

"You're taking so long, making a ruckus over our misery, you simple bitch. Maybe I'll help you get down here faster, I'll push you!" and Lord Sunthraze ran to do it.

"Hold!" called Anasterian. "You touch her, and you will be committing a crime, punishable by hanging to death, against a servant of the royal House of Sunstrider."

Marie wasn't that surprised, but she burst forth into giddy squeals, and leaned up on toes to kiss Prince Anasterian on the cheek, as she passed on the way out of the front doors, to her new home.

Anasterian laughed the entire time all the staff of the Sunthraze Estate watched their greatest treasure depart. And they did not have much left over in that house, after Scratchdance, and the Lord's drinking and gambling began, then the Lady herself had died. Then, the King of Quel'thalas, Prince Anasterian's father had died so suddenly after-as if this was a bad year, an omen year. But when they asked Marie to use her country tricks and confirm it, she told them all it would be the best year of her life. Now, they realized how powerful she truly was, not that they could regret dismissing her latent talent now. Marie had skillfully deceived them all.

"Oh, come on now. She's going to be Queen. If Anthene wants to take pity on her relatives who kept her shut up in that poor little room, and that bed my shins even cleared, Ha! Then, I'll allow it, why not? We two are in love, I don't care what anyone else says... if her tender heart can even reach that far, it'd very much amuse me."

Then, Anasterian stopped in the bright open doorway. He'd forgotten something.

"Little Roann," evidently, to twist the knife.

"Yes? My life for my Prince!" the boy saluted.

"You once told me that it was a dream of yours, to become one of my protectors, a decorated member of the Palace Guard..."

The Lord of the house was already shouting over it, and grabbed his son close. Anasterian laughed again, could not stop laughing.

"What power have you, drunk! Roann, we are certainly friends now. Would you like to quit this house, and come live in the big, wonderful castle, with your friend, the soon-to-be King? My coronation is not very far away. Your constant, cheerful presence at my side would be a great gift to me."

"My son isn't some jester, that you can keep around and mock at how you destroyed his innocence, turning it against him in this scheme to bed a woman better than yourself! And that's what this is, Prince Anasterian, so many evenings of torrid affair, saying you're a friend to this home, knowing my wishes for her to live peacefully, and then lying to Anthene, abusing her? You Sunstrider men are a blight on this house, a mark on this country and its women. It's only a matter of time before they get wise or else find the magic-I pray Anthene herself can-and finally put a Sunstrider male in his place, for undoing the world and its wholesomeness, on a whim. Roann, please... He shouldn't be given such a choice, at his age. Don't take my boy, too. I can't live without my boy... We've fallen on hard times, Prince Anasterian, but I'll get myself right, I'm a good father to him, I promise. A person doesn't need money, just to be a good person. Please..."

Roann had been attempting to bound forth through all that speech, until now.

"But Roann, you're a man now. You can do whatever you want. I'll see to it. I thought we were friends?"

The young man rubbed his eyes and began crying too. He did not understand why. But one day, as you know, he would. "I wanna stay with my Dad. He's my only Dad, Annie."

Anasterian was annoyed and in a mood, began pointing to a guard, to settle it, but then shrugged. "Fine, be poor. But I have a feeling, Roann, you'll serve me again, in some grand capacity. I owe that to you, right? For helping me and Marie to win the love of my life." Then, Anasterian played at saluting.

Teared up, the little ancestor of Sunthraze the Sly, returned the gesture and uttered those words again, "My life, for my Prince."

And that is how the Sunthraze Estate began its descent. When love was removed from the house. For, Anthene was already set up in the waiting carriage, fully convinced of her tender heart's worth, before such a heartless man.

_Several years later..._

Advisor Sorn had a secret that he knew could never, ever be shared with anyone else. It was horrific. It was perhaps sad, or twisted, or... an act of mercy, he did not know what. But, after meeting the strange hand-maiden of Queen Anthene'alas, the lone, beloved servant good enough to bring down from that Estate, but somehow, not skilled enough to counsel the Queen as to her health in certain... situations?

"Dammit, Sorn, you know that this is going too far. You're becoming obsessed with your job." But, as he stood just on the West side of the bedroom door, where shadow obscured anything set there at a particular time of afternoon, about four o'clock when the King was always missing appointments-for his nerves, Anasterian said, Sorn was now learning the truth. He had been learning it for a week, hence, actually. But the shock or sadness the scene filled him with was so hard to understand, hard to know how to approach, or if he should do anything at all, to defend the Queen's honor.

But that was the problem. Anasterian was supposed to be protecting it.

Sorn took another breath and then crept back to the sliver of gilded silver door, to watch.

For some reason, Anasterian enjoyed having sex with a woman who had far deeper problems than his love could cure. He was athletic and eager about it, but she was frail. Anthene was at her best when he married her-the malady seemed perfectly in tune with the goodness, or semblance of goodness, in her life. Her musculature was gentle then, but now it'd withered somewhat. A spread thigh revealed not very much else beyond slender outline of the bone. The fingers that caressed her husband's back responded slowly, one by one. Anasterian was as quiet and stealthy as a predator. She gasped repeatedly, sounding on the verge of tears.

The first time he saw them together, Sorn almost cried, himself. He feared it was rape.

Sorn did not know what else to call it, when a man as powerful and grand as Anasterian could seize a woman so completely vulnerable, though she was willing, and enjoy hearing her lose her breath-really lose it, wither, panic, then gently request for him to stop. Anasterian always did end when his wife needed, but Sorn had a strange fear that one day, the monarch he knew so well, would not. And then, he'd laugh at Anthene for thinking herself even that worthy of him, that she should be shown mercy.

It was much the same way Anasterian behaved toward all of his advisors, friends, and even his father, before he died.

"Oh, I'm tired of hearing you preach on, Father. Of course I'm going to do whatever I want, fuck who I want to, anyway. Give me my kingdom, already."

That is really what Anasterian said to the old King, on his deathbed. Hands stuffed up into his armpits, bored. The elderly Sunstrider simply shook his head at his son and gave up.

Now, the sounds of light talk had ended. Anasterian stood on creaking floorboards, complained that those should be fixed and then re-dressed himself.

"I end up missing you, Annie. In the nights."

"I work late, I fall asleep at my desk, as I told you." Sorn was a personal advisor and couldn't exactly confirm that, which made it a weighty lie, if it was another of Anasterian's falsehoods.

"You aren't... bored with me, are you?"

Sorn fretted second-most over this. The poor woman was in a bad way, to be sure, she asked it daily-either she was that distraught to be a bed-ridden Queen, or that distressed when taken as a bed-ridden wife in the first place. Why had Anasterian done such a thing? The woman obviously needed a good priestess or a nurse-a better one than she had brought-not a husband!

Anasterian must have sat on the bed. "I like you this way, Anthene." a kiss, somewhere, "I love you exactly like this. Please don't change."

Sorn had to go. Now. But just leave her, with him? That felt wrong. Worse than having to ever explain, to the present Chief Advisor, why in the hell he liked to watch the King having sex.

Anasterian left the room and checked at the door being ajar. The tall blonde man leaned in half, peering down the dark corridor, both ways. After moments the King could not afford to lose more of, with his schedule, Anasterian scratched his head angrily, then left.

Sorn sat in a closet, wiping tears from his eyes and not knowing what else to do. He couldn't just leave her, it wasn't right! Queen Anthene'alas was not like any of the other conquests Anasterian had as a young man and Prince. That he'd settled down was curious enough, but with a weak woman? A completely vulnerable, hurting creature with little of precious life left? And with every base hump, he was making that less and less.

"...Annie? Are you there? Did you leave me?"

Sorn went back to the door-edge. She sounded desolate. Was she forgetting things even this fast? Did the Queen know who she was married to? Or, why, or when?

"No, he is not, my Queen. But I am his dutiful servant. Advisor Sorn. I am sworn to guide and correct... shall I fetch the King?" Sorn tensed hearing himself say it, that he would bring Anasterian back again. Now, it was acute, the instinctual demand that Anasterian and Anthene'alas were not made to be together.

The woman who looked up at Sorn had dark rings around her eyes and bony fingers. But, in her gaze, a strange life danced. And her cheeks had not yet lost their roundness.

"He talks about you, Sorn. I trust you. That is why I am not ringing my bell, here." she gestured to a long, silk ribbon tied to a set of silver bells at the ceiling. Sorn was amazed, he had no idea it was there. The rest of the room was also done in a sad silver, tinted by an early blue dusk the many shut curtains helped enforce.

"Forgive me. I was passing, and I feared for your health-"

"You've been crying, Sorn."

Sorn swallowed.

"Is something the matter? Is my Annie especially mean to you? I can ask him not to be." Pearly teeth made soft every syllable. Sorn felt himself being drawn in. She was beautiful, in her way. Like a tragic, sweet ballad, all in one woman.

He knelt by the bed. "Are you a fairy?"

Anthene laughed. "No, silly, I'm just a person. Though, it is odd, for someone as little as me to attract someone so grand."

"So then, you admit... that there is an unnaturalness between you two."

It would either cross a line or later incite Anasterian to kill him later, when he saw someone as purely gentle as this, left crying.

Anthene did cry, but it was with joy. "I'm just dying. I've been close to death for a long time..." she pulled ardent breath, and looked away. "And pain is endemic to existence, for everyone. Annie takes it away from me."

"Does he truly? If so, then I am relieved to hear it. If not then... Well, in some ways, does he not?"

Anthene turned back to Sorn, biting her lip. Sort of a youthful look, beyond what her energy appeared to be.

"Do you know what he does for me? It's very funny sometimes, when these curtains are pulled back and all the sunlight comes bursting in-"

"Please, my Queen, the question plagues me and I risk my life to ask. I beg you to answer."

She laughed. It was not false. "But I am answering you. Go to the edge there, of the wall. Be careful of the flower boxes."

Sorn was surprised to see that there were lots of empty wood crates on the floor. Few, very, very precious few people ever came into Queen Anthene'alas' room and knew exactly how it was laid out. Except that, there were so many windows, often drawn. It was specially built for her soon after the wedding, using magic. The entire Queen's Wing of the castle was in a hard to reach place, anyways, and her room was rumored to not even have a view, where it was tacked on. Sorn prepared himself for the worst, knowing how selfish Anasterian could be. He pulled on another rope when Anthene used her voice to show him, and all the curtains in that round edge of the room raced on runners to wheel apart.

The remainder of day was overpowering. As for the view, it was the pure blue sea, and nothing else.

Anthene laughed. "Oh, I love when new people see it!"

"My, there's more, this is a door, here?"

"Yes, Advisor Sorn, they're all doors..."

Sorn opened one after the other. There was a large glass box attached to Anthene's room, like a greenhouse. The floor was covered with planters of all sizes, many of them low to the ground, like the crates he'd tripped over. All of them were natural flowers. Sorn knew species of enchanted flora, and these were not it. Anasterian would have had to go to the brinks of the planet to find green tigerlilies, white plum trees with gold leaves, and only the Zakkari witch doctors were said to have crystal ambrosia vine-imagine! A Highborne King talking with Trolls, for only someone so important could have ever convinced a secretive soothsayer...

"All this is for you?"

"I love flowers. This was Annie's gift to me."

Sorn felt himself a boy, turned circles in his black Advisor's robe, but fought to keep his arms crossed in a stern fashion, or else he'd start dancing. What a perfect, perfect place!

"And, his other gift, when I am in a mood-and I think you know why I'm sharing so far-is to wear a small apron of my choosing, only that, and to go about here tending to all of these. I watch him for hours. No one, hardly more than a seabird ever comes through there, and it's marvelous."

"So then, he does romance you."

"Yes, my husband loves me."

"And you are happy? You are comfortable? What of your family, do you see them? I can't imagine, shut up here, away from so many people..."

Sorn returned to the Queen's bedside and took Anthene's hands. "We are strange, I know. We don't match at all, do we? But I just know that Annie is a good person, deep down. He does love me, Sorn. He does. Don't worry. Oh, don't cry again. Is this why you were crying? Shh, shhh..." and then she sang to him. After, they stood there together. Sorn watched carefully to be sure Anthene caught her breath. "My body feels, the way his inside feels. I think. Sorn, we can't help how we are. But I have a great deal of hope that, for as long as Anasterian can stand to love me, he will do better. And so, maybe, I sacrifice myself. Once, I was vibrant, and I could garden, you know. Then, I got sick... I know about men and their needs. I wasn't a virgin when I met him..."

Sorn suddenly realized just how much they were sharing together. There was no chance of stopping it now.

"Annie will, eventually, cheat on me." she gave Sorn's hands away. "That is the kind of handsome he is, the way he ruts. I could never miss it. Few women, unless they were innocent creatures or stupid, could miss that."

Sorn shut his eyes. "Are you bitter towards men in general? Or, just this man, after you married him?"

Anthene'alas shrugged against her pillow. "Does it even matter now? I like this game. Annie is a real man, a beauty and a terror, our love is a rapture, and he is a King, and best, I get to have him all to myself, our marriage is still young. I always wanted to be a Princess-now I'm a Queen. A veritable Queen, that's perfect. Oh, what a good joke divine forces are playing on me." Anger, no conviction rose in her voice, "The day he pitied me was the day I gave up on sickness and fear and everything else hateful. I began to understand that I had a greater purpose for dying-you thought I'd say living, didn't you? Oh Sorn, you're cute, you're adorable to think me that angellic. No, as I said before. I am just a woman who is dying. But now, because I amuse King Anasterian Sunstrider, I can die happy."

Sorn made up his mind, then, to leave it alone. She did not make any sense, nor could he help her. He was not sure of how much Anasterian had planted in Anthene's mind, or how much the Queen's near fanatical zeal for her husband's oddity, or unbreakable loyalty to him, had been Anthene's own troubled doing.

Yes, Anasterian was hurting the delicate young woman. And yes, she liked it. She opened her legs to it. That is what Sorn made himself remember, that every time he spied, Anthene had worked what was left of her muscle to open legs for her mad husband and his propensity for cruelty. He loved her in the way that wolves cherished lambs. And, shut up as she was, torn as she was from anyone who really knew her condition or cared about her, Anthene could suffer on and on as long as she latched onto her life, doing exactly as her husband bade her to do and no one would chastise Anasterian for taking great advantage. Anasterian could even one day kill her with his love, and people would admire him for having shown mercy to have married her in the first place. The perfect crime. Yes, there was a chance that Anasterian was working late and not cheating on his wife already, if he enjoyed his sick little game enough.

The great morbid destiny Queen Anthene'alas so believed in, was not hard to figure, from that perspective.

"All I want now, Sorn, is a son. A beautiful baby boy, to put in the garden too, to bury in the dirt right there, next to my prized marigolds. I've heard told that marigolds guide the dead. Do you see there? Sorn? Sorn, where have you gone?"

Not far enough away from the Sunstriders. Sorn answered for himself, gently closed the door, and promised, for his sanity, that he would never speak of it again.

Was there no one, alive, who could heal this black-blooded madness in the Sunstrider line!

_About thirty years, from the present..._

Sister Liadrin couldn't see through her tears. "I'm sorry, your Majesty, but it gets worse!" she shrieked. Anasterian grabbed her by the wrists and cussed for her to stay quiet. "Your Queen, Celestia, she studied all the books I found her, when I was cloistered at the royal library. It was the section dedicated to the late Queen, that you had commissioned, the books you had written up for her, about your wonderful love together, that the whole kingdom once praised and envied... I know, I'm trying to be quiet. But, that's all the evidence you need. Celestia knows, really, what happened to Anthene'alas, how you courted while she was sickly, everything like that, but she didn't care."

Anasterian had to rub his temples. The blonde mane he so prized was streaking white, at its crown. "Celestia duped me."

"Yes, my King. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I didn't see it earlier. That is why you are so unhappy now, in your second marriage. Because Celestia play-acted as your first wife, throughout the courtship. She did it on purpose-sweet and vulnerable, to tempt you. And now, it's like she's someone else entirely, right? That's what you said. Oh, but don't cry when I love you. I love you so much, Annie, I myself would never go so far and do such a thing."

"Be quiet. BE QUIET, I SAID!" He arched fingers, thinking. Anasterian could not think however. He took more and more impatient breaths. "I am going to kill her. That is the only logical solution. Anthene died, because I wanted to play a little game, with souls, to see if I was, in fact, more handsome than death."

Sister Liadrin was shocked to hear it. So different than all the angellic texts about their love, in the Royal Library...

"You... your love with her was just some game?"

Anasterian cracked each of his fingers against sweating palm, gazed at the inside of his wrist. Liadrin saw what he did, but could not smile. The veins there darkened, black.

"I asked you not to do that, any longer." She knelt and took his hand. "Please... My King, it hurts you, we spoke of it."

"Where does the phrase come from? More handsome than death... it implies that some men are, or were, once upon a time ago. Don't you agree? Logically, that must have been the case-"

"No, love, sometimes people just say things..." She cried until she was exhausted, then lay her head on his knees for a time.

"But you told me to be more rational. Rather than indulge my feelings, my damned tainted senses. Sorn's already successfully trained me at compassion. That's why I married her in the first place."

Liadrin asked, only when she was calm enough, "...Celestia? Is that whom you're thinking of now? I admit, for all our time together, I'm having trouble following you."

"If I am, in fact, more handsome than death-as father always warned-than I should have been able to save Anthene. For a time, approximately eighteen months, five days..."

"Oh gods, oh by the Light, no-"

"...she held on, in that marriage, for me."

"But because you gave her hope! Because you loved her?"

"No, Liadrin. Sister Liadrin... it was and is because I am perfect. Big and strong and sexy. Magnanimous and omnipresent. Irresistible. Didn't you also warn me, Sister Liadrin, not to say that again, to you?"

She hastened to get back up.

"No, stay by me. My marriage to Celestia is certainly over. It cuts the number of vows you'd be breaking by at least half."

"Your entire forearm will go black. Stop it, Anasterian."

He inhaled sharp, smiled, felt the wild pulse at his wrist with a thumb. "But that's just it, I don't feel anything anymore. My second wife, who I honestly loved, has betrayed me and now I don't feel any of that hurt. Only a moment ago, it was like my chest was being ripped in two." Another gallant breath. "But I'm cheery as ever now. I feel fine. So then, why don't you finally sleep with me?"

"You aren't yourself right now. My King, it's like you're someplace else, making decisions based on a false reality. For one, you are still married to Queen Celestia, I could never-"

"But you want to. You will. And when the courts learn I've broken the wedding contract, I'll remind them of who I am and they'll fear to go against me-"

"People get punished for their crimes, Anasterian. Even Kings. And how can you hope to convince the Convocation of anything, when you're clearly so upset? Take some time to think about this, to mourn the loss of your marriage first..."

"I don't wanna mourn, haha! I want to be free of her, that liar, that witch." Another breath, the black taint flushed up the length of his arm. Anasterian laughed anew and ripped off that embroidered sleeve, made a bicep. "Look at that, how spectacular. We'll play another game, Sister Liadrin. Come on, take my hands, let me kiss you-don't complain! Now, I'll prove it to you, that this is fun and harmless. In fact its godlike, taking a life here, felling a mountain there, without hating it or missing it... Let's see. How much temptation can a chaste priestess take?"

Anasterian twirled Liadrin by the fingertips, around in circles. "I am here to help you, my King, no matter how I intensely I feel, I won't hurt you."

"What's that phrase in the hallowed texts? Lions laying down with lambs or something... do you think that's really possible, through the Light?"

"I don't know, I suppose, with enough faith-"

"And there are so many other predators in the world, what about wolves? They might also adore them, they cherish them."

She went along, when Anasterian was prone to following his ego beyond logic. It also made him notoriously stubborn.

"I see. So then, what is the joke, before I try healing you again?"

Anasterian wrested her to a stop, bracing strong arms in a hug around the back of her neck and shoulders. "Wolves eat lambs."

He laughed. Liadrin felt his black bicep tighten against the base of her skull.

"Let me take you and consume you. All your torn cries will end, in my stomach. I promise, then, we will both be happy."

"But this is another game. You don't know for sure..." Liadrin watched the black stain ebb over his collarbone, as his jugular vein went pitch. "I'm begging you, Anasterian. This habit of conjuring your blood black, suppressing the pain... you have to deal with reality."

"The old magic trick helps with the stress. It's a break, a breath of fresh air. People write stories and gaze at art, write songs about foolishness, fantasize, all to escape. There's nothing wrong with any of them. And what kind of woman are you, who can't crave a good fuck by the King of Quel'thalas?"

"I do, but..." considering, Liadrin came back valiantly from distraction, "Fantasy and art, are not about escaping what is, Anasterian. People are inspired by what they see in life and can't sit still. They paint the dawn, they sing about love's victories and its hurts... and hurt can be deep and beautiful, when you see how transformative it is. But first, you need to get through it. You need to have hope and try. Don't you see how relying on this black blood, and not facing your problems is going to hurt you in the end? You will indulge and escape until you've dug yourself into more than a borough, but a hole-"

"You act as if I've gone to another realm, or hiding out on Draenor every time there's a problem."

"No, you are making yourself high on Demon magic somehow, and that's worse."

"And then I come back down again, and I deal with real people about real problems, face to face."

"It changes your mood. It makes you frustrated and eager when you aren't using-how long can you go without turning your blood black? A week, two weeks?"

"Life's too boring without it." Anasterian sat back down, on the couch. Liadrin stood there a moment, calming herself. Dealing with him was precisely like putting one's head into a lion's mouth.

"While you are so busy, escaping, practically all of the time, Anasterian-you aren't dealing with real people." she lifted finger for him to wait, and not interrupt her. "To you, everyone is a part of your game, seen through a filter. Even when you aren't black-blooded, you're angry and craving it, or resigned and missing it. So then, you can't ever deal with people as you truly are, and so you have no idea what they really think of you. And then, you come to me, frustrated when no one treats you the way you feel you deserve."

"I'm the King. Some damned body should trust me to do what's right for this kingdom. Advisor Sorn checks everything that I do, translates my pure statements to the Convocation of Silvermoon. And he's one of the nicer slaves I've got around this castle. There are always enemies at every turn."

She wiped away tears, trembled. "Because you aren't being yourself. People recoil from your modified temperament or they don't trust how unstable you are and so they go immediately on the defensive-it's harder than it should be for you to connect. Then what about your family members? You won't like me saying this, but your own father was pushed away, by the black blood. He tried and tried to reach you, but you wouldn't come out and just hear him properly. Even on his death bed, he begged you..."

"Did Sorn tell you all this? Because you weren't there."

"...Or, those who do dare and brave your cruelty aren't the sort of people who really want to see you recover."

"I do have friends, Liadrin. They are generally nice people who enjoy my company, the high-stakes courtly games, all of it, and appreciate me for who I am, even with black blood. I wasn't more handsome than death, I found, but there are a few others who will be pleased to find, after this session, that wolves and lambs can lay down together, get along."

She dabbed at her eyes and crumpled a kerchief. "Even if the courtiers do like you, Anasterian, people willing to watch you go through this might not care enough to know how you really fare, or tell you what you really need to do, to stop doing something that is self-destructive. Some of them are caught up in games as well. These sorts of intense people like you at your worst, because they want you to keep playing along, indulging your madness. Then, they can get whatever they need from the power you are willing to bestow, while in that haze. Perhaps they can't even help themselves, through their own sets of blinders. They can't reach you, they can't help you or effectively love you, as hobbled as they are, the attention must be addicting. But, what happens when you stop being so powerful, Anasterian?"

"Even without using the black blood, I'll always be King."

"What about when you don't feel like a King? When you are vulnerable? When you aren't liked by the populus? When your marriage falls apart and people on both sides of your families all stand to benefit from properties being parceled out? They might forget about you, dismiss you, abandon you... at the least, you will become less relevant. But, face to face, without the influence of black blood, you are always relevant. What you experience authentically always matters, it has a real effect. And if you don't get along with someone, then you stop dealing with them, and they quit you-but isn't that fair? Moreover, all of this can be avoided. Right now, you are willing to let in the false relationships that are about what you stand to lose, not who you truly are, because you aren't getting the help that you need. You're struggling through life with the armor completely off and no sword raised. Yes, there are kind people in this life, and chances for genuine loving relationships, but if there's anyone truly supportive around you right now, Anasterian, as distracted as you are, sweet, you can't find it and you can't see it."

"But I do see you."

"Exactly... wait, hold on a moment, that isn't what I meant."

"You are trying to help me, Sister Liadrin. Celestia lied to me, used, me, but you are trying to help me. I do understand, after all. But, if I'm still able to function and know true love with black blood, then doesn't that disprove your theory?"

"There's something else... I want to help you, but you're tempting me. It's not right to play games and use the people you care for. That's another thing you don't understand right now, with me being the lamb and you the wolf." she shut tearing eyes, "Whatever this has become between us, I've been through all it before."

Anasterian's clear gaze was remarkable, when he wanted it to be loving. It was as if he were seeing her smile before it happened, and then suddenly, there it was. "What was the idiot's name? I'll use my sharp fangs and go kill him for you."

Liadrin snapped out of being flustered for a third time. "Nate isn't-we need to understand each other, my King. I've asked you before, but somehow you've been hiding it. Will you please, this time, cease indulging the demonic taint until the Sisterhood can find a cure? You can't afford to play any more games with people while under its influence, not one more, until I find the source of it."

He came and leaned over her desk, in charge. "Sister Liadrin... you aren't so plain and unfortunate as you believe. You are beautiful and kind. I never trespassed with you before, because of my wife. But now, I haven't got one. This is about real love and healing, as you said."

"No, though you're clever-"

"Does the holy text lie? Why did it say that lions, lambs and wolves can be friends, if it isn't true?"

"Another game..."

"No. I understand the difference between lyrical spiritual allusions, mere metaphors, and what sacred words really mean, about people. I'm a bad man, and you're a good woman. Aren't you powerful enough to lift me up? You're already lifting me up, in a way..."

"Stop it," she blurted laughter, "when you know I have feelings for you. I am your confessor, I'm not meant to confess to you. I care, I do, and I long for a way, any way at all to make things right. I desperately want to help, when I know you don't deserve to suffer like this. No one does."

Anasterian went to the window, and carefully pried the curtain aside, at the edge. He shrank from the beautiful daylight like someone afraid of the sun itself, which is hard lunacy for a Highborne to manage. "I married the same woman, twice. But you are so steady, and you've really healed me these last few years. I only hoped... Perhaps I am alone in thinking a priestess is worthy enough to become Queen. Together, I might be whole. That is the strength of the feeling I have for you, Lia. And Kael'thas already thinks so well of you, I didn't want to take that away from him. So many Sunstriders have been poisoned by whatever this is, like venom. Maybe the love of a pure heart like yours would finally-"

Liadrin remembered that was how it started. She kissing all over Anasterian's hurt look. The possibility that her love might truly cure him in that painful moment, made her lose everything.

_Today..._

General Blaize set down his wife's golden diary now. "Madness."

Celestia, no longer a queen, came out onto the porch with lemonade for both of them. They had the Sunthraze Estate because it turned out that Dannox did not like the blasting sunrise-but really, it was Blaize begging his old friend to convince his husband and wife to switch land with them, once Blaize saw the pitiful shadowy moss-covered plot Kael'thas had granted them, at the edge of the Ghostlands. The Night Elf man loved it, however, and promised his bewildered mates that he was going to make the dark land into some kind of night-palace, whatever that meant. But, that they hadn't heard from their neighbors since the switch possibly signified that Dannox did have another use after all, besides his great cock.

"So, you've finally got to the end of it, have you? The part I wanted you to read."

"I understand now, Celeste, what you want from me as a husband." Blaize arced an eyebrow, turned the book sideways, and flipped several pages. "Definitely not any of this."

"Do be careful, I won't sleep at night if you miss your place and so don't read something I haven't the heart to re-tell."

Blaize apologized and began to read in a more dignified fashion. "I hope there's alcohol in this drink."

"Oh my, I can get some for us if need be. But first... what do you think?"

"Well, by all accounts, Kael'thas Sunstrider came out right. His father is-was-a brain-fried lunatic! It sheds light on all political doing as well, if Anasterian thought like this. Is that where all we Blood Elves were headed, because of our arcane addictions? Kael'thas Sunstrider saved us like your last paycheck from the Dalaran Post, you know that week, when there were street riots in the Gnomish District and we had nothing but cans upon cans of spoilt beans to eat? More like salvaged, not saved, not redeemed. The kingdom back then was headed toward oblivion in a handbasket."

"Ugh, I'm getting sick again, just remembering... that particular week in Dalaran is an entry I did not write down, in case you're wondering."

"I never thought I'd come to like Kael'thas at the end of this. Never. But he had absolutely no chance, with parents like those. And so, I'm guessing that Sorn told Liadrin about Anasterian's powerful hold over people, especially women. And Liadrin was the one who later told you about Anasterian's real courtship of Anthene'alas-back while you were Queen and could force confessions?"

"Yes. But Anasterian's last counseling session with Liadrin, before I mistakenly turned her out of the castle, because I had no appreciation for the real magnitude of the disgusting affairs Anasterian got into after he saw how I'd tricked him into marriage... oh, my, I don't think I could ever bring myself to apologize to Liadrin for throwing her out, though I want to. She wouldn't accept it. In the same way that I could never take an apology from Annie. He tried to... well, you heard him say it. The King threatened me. In comparison I was being a courtier, a clever schemer, no different than himself. In a way we were even, well, matched for one another. Oh no, I can't tell if that is the old me still convinced of his handsome foolishness, or the older me afraid to believe I really did marry such a monster, out of wanton greed. Well, it's all right there, on paper. I'll go get the liquor-"

"Our best liquor, Celestia."

"Yes, I'll do that. But keep on reading, until the page I marked."

Blaize felt sad for his wife. He didn't bother thinking on what else he felt for Celestia, to be going this far for her. Perhaps she had the same problem, and that was why she asked him to read about her past first, before they truly settled down, as a couple.

"I'm saving yet another woman from a Sunstrider, it seems..." he grumbled. The little golden book flipped another page, too yellow-stained with time and cheery to be telling this kind of awful story. Blaize was convinced that magical objects possessed no conscience what-so-ever.

_Fifteen years before today..._

Celestia cried into her silk handkerchief for the entire time the King's barrister explained things to them. She shook out distressed, plump hands, sent all her golden bracelets jingling and then tugged Anasterian into a frantic hug.

"Oh, gods, why do I still love you after everything?"

"Perhaps, because my hands have been cuffed together throughout the worst of this trial? I also fancy that you enjoy knowing that I sleep on the cold, dirty floor of a prison cell during the proceedings."

Anasterian was angrier than his voice could effect these days. That was how exhausted he was with everyone and every thing. If not for the handcuffs, he would have blasted a great deal of people to pretty, arcane-smouldering bits. It was obvious.

"This is all your fault, Celestia."

"Excuse me, Sir! Did I tell you to have so many affairs with important people's wives and make them all into your enemies? No, I did not!"

Anasterian repeated the sentence, mocked her. "I really loved you, did you never anticipate that! I wanted you and only you after I lost Anthene-"

"Annie, we've been through this. The court counselor-not Liadrin-assessed that you believed I was Anthene."

A vein in his neck turned black. "Only because you pretended to be her-she was the one who was never supposed to hurt me, never supposed to betray me nor go against me! Anthene was to lay there for me and be my flower for eternity... to give me sons and never, ever, ever, cause me to hate her! But you... I HATE you now. I can't stand you, I will kill you-"

The barrister threw down his folio with all the notes and important documents in it.

"I'm done. King Anasterian, how many times did I warn you not to threaten the Queen in public? It's already due to be a life sentence. They're going to take away the royal holdings now, they're going to rob your son, rob into the next generation-have you no heart at all! I won't do it. I can't represent you anymore, not even for the future of this country."

Celestia begged their last lawyer to stay. But his 'I QUIT' resounded off of every slick marble wall in the place. People milling about stopped to watch. Now, just Anasterian and Celestia stood together. The door to the Hall of Justice opened. This was the courtroom for nobility and royals. Clerks wearing white wigs did not bother asking the King where his lawyer was, this time. They took him by the elbow and forced Anasterian inside. Celestia tread beyond the threshold more softly, and sat in the back.

The barrister representing the kingdom's interests against Anasterian began, "King Anasterian, you have been found guilty for what, no doubt, will from now on be called the Fall of Quel'thalas..."

Hot, tired, and incensed people all around the room, roasting in the summer heat and the gravity of this event began to shout how dramatic that was. The judge banged his gavel for order.

"Counselor, I'll object on behalf of the King's lawyer, who evidently gave up. Isn't there enough in the world going on, that the Convocation of Silvermoon has hardly been able to broach and decide what to do with, in the midst of this upheaval, that you really don't need to go so far as saying this whole empire, my country, and yours, is on the verge of collapse? I want that terrible statement stricken from the record."

"Apologies, Judge... there is only one last fateful question, King Anasterian, that this court needs to know the answer to, before you are finally sentenced. You've almost upset the fair Convocation to the point of disbanding, you've been found on so many other counts of corruption, besides the moral kind. And then, in some places we've found a combination of both kinds-using the royal treasury to buy a prostitute for your old friend Lord Roann Sunthraze, tsk. It's sad. It's horrifying."

"It's not all bad." Anasterian glared at the back of the courtroom and clamped a clear hand over a fist of black, flushed knuckles. "The assassins I hired for my last wife have come out of my personal, family coffer."

Celestia became so upset she had to leave. The heavy oak doors slammed to again, and the judge had to bang gavel for another uprising to quiet.

"For that, King Anasterian, I'm going to double whatever your sentence turns out to be."

"You can't do that, you idiot," Anasterian turned and hair flew all over the place, deranged looking, "You don't even know if it's a merciful sentence or a just sentence, but automatically, you're just going to double it. Do you see how these courts are corrupted! And, the very members of the Convocation, sitting right here, in these seats with everyone else..." Anasterian stood up, wrestled in his binds. Royal guard raised shields and rushed to bully him, now. "I am the product of this generation, and the last. Why am I the only Highborne accused? All of you are disgusting, spending too much time near the Sunwell, too much time being vain, fucking each other' wives and husbands! Quel'thalas is falling because of every damned soul here. I'm just the scapegoat. I'm innocent, therefore! I'm innocent of it all. Why can't any of you accept that some leaves have to fall, some deadwoods have to be culled. And burned away! All of you can go straight to hell and BURN!"

"I'd like to stop my investigation, your Honor, when the King has answered the question I was working up to. I just wanted to know what he thought of himself and country, for the history books, and well, we've got it."

Anasterian was sentenced to death by hanging at sundown, and all of his holdings would be turned over to the Convocation of Silvermoon. At present, the fate of Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider was in serious question, also. Queen Celestia was no mother to him, and many a noble was passing the phrase 'ward of the state' around. They did not want another king.

_Dearest diary, this was the same day Arthas attacked the city. I had walked through the street, too upset to see my carriage already waiting, and that was the one precious thing, that Anasterian had made me so upset... a barrage from a meatwagon smashed the royal carriage to pieces. It was an eyesore, always. In that moment, it became a target for being so beautiful. I ran. I went inside of the castle and followed the rush of people who already knew, to whom the Magisters had passed word and that word did not go directly from the scrying orbs to the Ranger-General. _

_What could Sylvanas do, to re-position our forces and protect the city, when Arthas was the one presently ordering his banshee-puppet, our Windrunner, to attack her city? We had no chance._

_The initial barrage ended. Some of the stupider people thought it was over. No, it was just beginning. Ghouls and more of the Undead came. Our own turned people, too. Gargoyles... footsoldiers of all kinds. We screamed and got away from the windows after Arthas himself galloped through the street on skeletal horse, looking for something. A poor girl's cotillion had all the ballroom windows smashed out. He was distracted by seeing her stand there-palest face I'd ever seen, and such a beautiful dress. But her day was ruined. Arthas smiled at that. I remember that he smiled, even then. _

_He raised Frostmourne. We all feared that he'd give the order to force all the destruction through the palace, or obliterate our hall of justice. Even through my anger-and I really was distressed by Anasterian-I thought to myself that our very King was inside, being sentenced. What would happen? What if Arthas killed our King? Everything else flew out of my mind. We'd have been conquered by the Scourge. Failed ourselves and great Dath'remar's shimmering dream._

_However, I remember this distinctly, Arthas turned the whole thing around. He should not have been, but he was lost. Yes, they threw things into the windows, and smashed the palace facade on the way... but he did not want our structures, or symbols. He shouted, for everyone who had their wits in that day, that he wanted the Sunwell. He could not get there, going this way. So, they turned round and went out of the Court of the Sun, towards Falconwing Square. That was the part of the city most destroyed, the part that burned, and to this day, so many weeks later, after my being, well... banished, is still in pieces._

_I thought of something stupid like my shoes, my pretty collection shoes to keep from panicking all the way, that Arthas wasn't playing some joke. He was known to be like that, to play cruel jokes. Worse than Anasterian's jokes. I saw all of my shoes, said goodbye to every last one of them, and not in pairs, either, one by one... that is how I kept sane when death should have come. By the grace of something, and maybe it was somehow Sylvanas in her state, Arthas wasted time on that day by going in the wrong direction. He was distracted. He did not take down the most important structures like the palace, or the Hall of Justice. The Convocation of Silvermoon was spared. He moved on, to get the Sunwell._

_Which was worse, I think. But, I was alive. I found some way to revive, along with the others. _

_The devastation was incredible-and that feels like the wrong word. But it was so wrong, so complete at once. Many of us, because we were crazy Highborne, I suppose, unaware of how bad we had got, we ran in every direction to see what was left. I went to the Hall of Justice, across the Court of the Sun. I wanted to see what happened with Anasterian. I think I... I think I actually wanted to beg mercy and see about his charges being dropped. After enduring that, how could we kill our own King and dispossess his son? _

_People were coming out, not going in. There had been some explosion on the inside. A royal guard grabbed me and begged me, his Queen, to move along, when there were no survivors in the King's court room. It made no sense. That part wasn't facing the street-the lesser courtrooms were evacuating. But I had seen, I had really seen that the missile hit the royal carriage, not the House of Justice itself!_

_I yelled that I wanted to die in peace then, if that had to be the case, and the man left me alone, in his fright. I worked to haul one door open. Called for my husband, or the names of the Convocation members, for they had been in attendance too..._

_But only one man was standing in that room of so many dead or dying._

_Anasterian had got out of his binds, somehow. He glanced around at first, ashamed. Then, he cracked his black knuckles and moved toward me. I didn't understand. People were dead in their seats. Not running from the blast. No windows had been broken on that side, as I'd observed._

_"I took a chance," he said to me. "Did I gamble wrong, Celestia?"_

_I mistook it for relief. I began to answer my husband, my late husband, out of love. "Arthas just missed us. Oh, gods, and thank the Light that you're unhurt-"_

_He then twisted my arm and yelled for me to get on my knees. Anasterian did not want me to die, facing him. He was so tired of seeing my face, he said._

_"You stupid bitch. I was talking about what I did to this room."_

_He said that, our own King confessed it. 'What I did to this room.' -there, it's down forever. And even more..._

_"I thought Arthas was going to kill us all anyway. I sensed his death-magic coming. So, I murdered a bunch of people I didn't like. In cold blood. Just like that. You will be the last. Then, I can mourn you, as I mourned her. No one else knows how this really is, how you're really going to go, Celestia. They'll think me a hero. Though, I'll miss that expensive set I bought and paid for. Too bad I can't take the front of your dress with me." Then he, then he grabbed me. There. "Good bye, darling. Last wife-oh why not, I might still be able to take another after this. They'll throw their virgins at me, after this. Perfect crime."_

_All my possessions, my shoes, my dresses, my pearl tiaras came to me, through the pain in my arm. Every single little thing I'd treasured. What a vain woman! But I won't hate that. I can't hate that about myself. Because, you see, I saw the gold book I carry-this same one, attached by the chain... I had a free hand. He had both busy, with me. Anasterian had murdered his own ministers after sleeping with their wives. He was like the ancient monster, the Olvi'athon. That was all I could think, that he was a monster, that he was a fiend. I had played his game before. Anger surged in me. I allowed myself to hate the man I grew tired of punishing. Why should I die and he live? Because he is charming? Because not even a cataclysm could make the world see it? Nature herself covered him, protected him... that damnable black blood, his veins all blotted out now. He didn't even feel how he hurt._

_I was already gripping the diary. I was committed. I lashed round, and swiped it clean across his neck. I was never so good at aiming, but the book, it must have wanted to cut through that blackest jugular vein._

_Then, I watched the King bleed to death. I killed him. Not Arthas. Not anyone else. Me._

_Why write it, when I was the only witness? Because, I suppose, I don't have anyone else to tell. I wish that I could say that in the end, I did it because he was a menace, destined to destroy us all, and that it was a clear, patriotic thing to do._

_No, I am many days removed from that now. I have seen this man's son. Kael'thas looks so like Anasterian. I was panicked and in the middle of packing shoes of all things when Kael'thas returned to Silvermoon, full of suspicions. Correct suspicions, about me._

_What was I packing shoes for? For an escape. I'd lost my mind. I even begged Kael'thas to let me stay. What did I want to stay for? Kael'thas put me out, and on days like this one, I am glad to be safe up in a tower, in Terrokkar Forest. Maybe I do need to be locked away. For wanting to kill my King. I thought of what I studied about the Queen before me, and how my gut always roiled-why did he take a sickly woman from her home? That alone wasn't right, that they weren't equals. But all I could see was that Anasterian had a craving to dominate and control, and if he could have virgins to himself, then even better. And so I told the royal court that was what I was-a sweet innocent. I refused Anasterian when back when we were courting and he first confessed wanting me. He perceived it as piety, a willingness to be taken, but that was his fault. I wanted to be Queen. Too bad he married something of a bull-woman. In the end, though, I did not want to give the King my life. Mine was worth more than his._

_Because Anasterian was a twisted, evil bastard. No one will forgive me for writing this, I suspect. Or, love me after. What man ever could? How could I ever love him back, truly, once his charming spell had worn off? I am a terrible and vain woman who met her match one day, that is all. I don't know that I am even worth the trouble, now. And the stain on you, diary, I never could get it out. No. No one will take us from this tower. I will sit here. But I will not give up. As Anthene'alas, that poor woman once said, "The day Anasterian pitied me... I knew that I had a greater purpose for dying." That was what the Sunstriders with their black royal blood were doing to our kingdom. Loving it wrong. Beating it up._

_If all I can think of is to die late in life and spite him, then that will be my purpose._

_A note: As for the rest of the trial, I compiled that using accounts from guards just beyond the door, who lived through Anasterian's attack, because they left their posts to help defend the front of the Hall, when Arthas arrived. Lucky them._

When Celestia had composed herself and returned to the back porch of the Sunthraze Estate, the one she and Roann often used to sit and share their secrets, she found her husband had already closed the book. Blaize was fast asleep.

She noticed that she had only taken one glass back with her to the kitchen. A taste. No, she had put rum in it from the beginning. Now, hers had double the serving.

"I might as well go too. My handsome husband won't be here when I wake, anyways. Knowing what he does." Celestia sniffed, like someone about to make a deal, like a Goblin mobster, then lifted her glass to the world around, and its melting snow. Autumn was when she began to love again, and then, she and Blaize got through a Dalaran winter together. Now, it was Spring. Quel'thalas never looked so beautiful.

"To Fall. Now that I've done everything I wanted in life, no matter what comes... it shall always be my favorite season." Somewhere, Celestia had maintained hope that she might live to see the day Quel'thalas was healed and the Sunstriders redeemed. Had that happened yet? Could it ever happen, or would small efforts by sad survivors like herself just come and go unrecognized with the times, not really striking fire. Anyone could come in, then, and sweep valiant attempts away.

Celestia was too pained to think on it any further. She tugged hard on her brazier, hiked skirt past her knees and splayed legs like a man sitting. The old Queen took her entire tall glass steadily, like a shot, and slammed it on the table.

What was left of the pitcher, she poured out over the veranda railing and into the grass, for Roann.

Next: The most finalest showdown in this series.


	24. Battle for Nazjatar

**MLFMP- **A story of fangirl delusion, Bloodknight zealotry and heartfelt recovery.

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Battle for Nazjatar**

When Kael'thas and his Knights of the Blood Nexus came to the shores of Azshara, having just passed through rose-colored shades of Lady Vashj's half-conjured kingdom there, the Blood Elf King made a fist and pounded one, two, three times at the center of his head.

A vortex was there in the surf. More bright magic churned the shallows into some violent portal that plunged abysmally deep into the ocean.

He said, "I don't know which is worse? That Blaize was so right about Lady Vashj trying to take over the world, or-"

"That Blaize is probably having a victory hook-up with your stepmother, as we speak?"

Kael'thas turned in the saddle and swatted Sunthraze so hard, both of them almost fell backwards off their mounts.

"Wow, the K-ster didn't miss this time? You're losing your edge, Sunny-thraze." Daphne worried.

Sunthraze winced. He and the other Bloodknights had asked Liadrin for permission to bring the powerful Whiteblade sword, which he wore slung across his back. "Or else, Kael'thas finally has enough Demon crap in his veins to get himself halfway to competent."

"Just go." Kael'thas grumbled. The Bloodknights urged their warhorses over the white sand and then used whatever swearing necessary to get the magic-forged animals into whatever watery mess even they feared to challenge.

_Deep down beneath the waves, in Nazjatar..._

Lady Vashj slithered across a crystalline floor made of black ice frozen so deep beneath the sea. She slashed her claws above collections of crystals against one wall, pointed twin fingers in a 'V' at another singing mechanism, then gave up and slammed her tail hard into the ancient console. Nothing.

Illidan crouched on the floor, adjusted the ancient runed blindfold he always wore (Inorite? Suddenly, after writing this thing for two years, I remember that Illidan is sort-of blind and also blind-folded. Go me). Nazjatar was a place forged away from the throes of ocean currents. Naga were able to slither and breathe as easily as they could swim in some places. The temple was one of the ice-enshrined, dry locales. "It's too late, Vashj. Kael'thas is coming for us."

"I know that. I didn't asssk you to remind me of it. Dammit, Oscur'Shalak! Why don't you be of some ussse, and help either Scyth'lerin or myssself?"

Wave Commander Scyth'lerin was down the stairs, beyond the long kelp-carpeted aisle and at the entrance to the royal temple. He hissed and shouting orders for the Naga warriors to brace against the doors and make a barricade. A row of priestesses conjured magic fast, to help. The place flashed with threads of dark lightning that could be seen crackling through the white-ice walls, which could make the place seem skeletal. Queen Azshara's armies intent on the temple were therefore visible through the walls at intervals. A nightmare, that throbbed between the most horrific doomsday circumstance, then broke free to clear white walls again. But always heart beat again, and one was thrown back and back, to see the enraged army coming. Naga soldiers conjured worse stuff, slashed tritons, and could swim at every length of the wall, in an undulating, thick garbled swarm.

Illidan nestled into folded violet arms. "Our ward is failing. My brother is coming."

"Malfurion is loyal to me alone, he will ssstay in Darnassus, where I ssset him down-"

"Kael'thas is my brother, Vashj. It's always been him!"

She raged into a scream. Illidan hunched shoulders and hugged himself tighter.

"This is not the time, nor isss it the place for you to lose your sense, Illidan. You chose to betray the most powerful warlock in existence. I'm not sad for you, nobody is, so too bad! Right now, another leap into the past is required. Help me."

"I won't lift another claw for you, if you take Tyrande from me this time. That was our bargain. Anything and everything for you, Vashj, but only so much as Tyrande loves me and chooses me..."

"I wouldn't dare. I'd never deprive such a man, sssuch a ruthless, amazing villain of his precious toysss."

"Do you mock me?"

A sniff, a lash of tail. Several jeweled panels lit green together, and Vashj grinned her fangs over it.

"Good, good. Now only two more. What's the ressst of the sssequence?"

Illidan replied, "I have no more dreams to cast for you. Kael'thas is coming for us, I said. And what will you do this time, Vashj? What if there is a greater chance for me to lose Tyrande?"

"Shut up about her! Fortell the damned sssequence, Illidan! This will be the lassst time I delve through time, I promise you. There is a way to fix everything perfectly so that there are no enemies left to stand against the future we deserve. You'll see. But you have to trussst me, as I already said. One last, preciousss time."

Illidan rocked himself, as would a child. This is how far he'd diminished, in needing Vashj so desperately. Another lightning flash through the walls. Now the nightmare returned again. Swift eyes of a feline monster pierced open in the chamber beneath the black floor. She pushed a wide white face against the flat ice. Blue bubbles passed over jagged teeth and fleshy womanly lips, in a kiss.

Now (and anyone would have), Illidan quickly regained his feet. "That was Azshara."

"Yesss, she tends to be trapped beneath the High Temple, another game piece stuck exactly where I put her."

The true Naga Queen's face was as large as the chamber. The rest of her body, if she emerged, could rip apart the entire place.

Which was why, Vashj now also explained, she had the temple-lei lines and all-re-built directly over the ancient queen's prison. After the final Naga civil war she caused over her time-travel, Vashj took no chances.

Illidan distracted, flared wings at nothing. "The night... is going to grant her passage."

"What? What am I to do with that telling? Ugh, you! Be a useful minion and get here, by my side! This is why I never recruited you into one of my plansss before. Always, with you, Illidan, you've had the reigns and lead at the Black Temple when I quietly decided it was easier for me to keep pace right next to you. But when I ssset the pace, you can't ever keep up with me. Look here, press thisss... I must activate the ones on the other side, beyond the mirror there. On the count of three..."

"And Tyrande?"

"Kssskssskiaaaaah! Yesss, for the last time, you'll get your bitch of a priestess-princess back, of course. Now, I'm going jussst over there-don't dare move your claw from that piece!"

Then a violet streak tore through the air, grew demon wings that unfolded and flapped harder as the portal expanded, as if it were coursing fast over leagues, and its burden growing heavier. Once it had widened enough, King Kael'thas Sunstrider stepped out of it. The eerie, comical effort of the performance left Illidan and Vashj staring.

"Oh, I should have known that awkward playing at evil was you. Kssss!" Vashj sneered.

"Strike me with that lightning bolt you're charging if you want, Vashj, but I am the one holding the end of Illidan's chain."

"I'm pressing the button, Kael'thassss." Vashj began to ignore him.

"Oh? Well, I am going to yank Illidan dead the moment that you try it."

Illidan peered over the crest of hard shoulder muscle. "You wouldn't dare..."

Kael'thas shrugged. "Today I'm convinced the fate of the world rests on it. Thrall is the only one who made me bring you back before. But right now, I have everything that I want. Saturna, my kingdom... both of my sons. And, as if proof of my villainous virility, Vashj, she's due to give me another."

"Liar! You gave the one ssson, Belorim, away to me. You never wanted him." said Vashj. "And you aren't about to convince a woman who spent so many hot nightsss with you, as two different versions of herself, that you're capable of sssiring anything."

Illidan began snickering.

Vashj smiled, charmed with herself and went on, "Not that the sex was so bad, Kael, my dear, but before you melted her, Le Rishka was certain she overheard enough castle-gossip to confirm it's Faltheriel Darkweaver'sss baby your precious Sssaturna is carrying."

Kael'thas twitched. "YOU TAKE THAT FALSE MONSTROSITY BACK!" When he did so, Illidan got one crystalline button ignited. Vashj tried in vain to harass him into pressing the other one, but Kael'thas had got his grip over the Demon Lord's will back.

And so it began, this battle of the wits. The three cleverest villains of all time, across two worlds, were now pitted against one another, in order to achieve the most desperate, vile ends each of them would ever vie to have done against creation itself.

Vashj sought to go back in time, in order to destroy the world and then re-make it in her own vain, mirror-mirror-on-my-wall, twisted image. Lord Illidan would do anything to have all the power of fate bind the one woman he ever wanted, more than life, more than death, more than reason, to what was left of his horrid existence. And King Kael'thas Olvi'athon Sunstrider... well, he wasn't going back to being a fel-magic-less nerdboy with no prospects-not fo' nobody's momma.

The three evil masterminds faced off. Kael'thas kept a hand thrust out, really willing Illidan to do as he would. It was an incredible strain. Vashj donned her best knowing smile, as if on the verge of all the world's secrets, and turned herself completely around, to face the two men. One arm reached painfully backward where she feared to remove it, from the single manual lock she would not release, also for Illidan's sake. The moment she removed green claw from the button would be that same moment Illidan was fully prevented, and with that burden of effort removed, Kael'thas could use all of his warlock's power to attack Vashj outright. Who would lose nerve and fire first?

"Faltheriel Darkweaver. Isss the father. Of your latest ssson." Vashj tried again.

A muscle above Kael'thas' brow definitely tensed. But he held on.

She gritted teeth. "Or, it could be a daughter. Imagine, Kael'thas Sssunstrider having a daughter... that is part Whiteblade, and part Darkweaver. Prone to fel-addiction. Prone to being ssstalked by fanboys, or girls. Worse, a ssstalker of the greatest demons, herself. And prone to-"

"Any child of mine is bound to be a painfully shy introvert or else a social deviant, and you know it, Vashj!"

"Funny defense." Illidan murmured.

Vashj agreed with her old Demon Lord friend. "A Sunstrider princess, in name only, prone, mossst of all, to obliterating Quel'thalas. I hear neither of your sons wantsss the throne Kael'thas, after what you still managed to do to it. You can either let me go, again, and fix things better on your behalf, or leave the Thalassian throne to another fangirl, demon-worshipping, royal-clutz monster. Your choice."

"Oh really?" Kael'thas answered. "What do you want in exchange for this latest favor, Vashj? That same last-born Sunstrider heir? Or, what was it you were really after-a chance to sleep with me? Maybe Illidan should back off from helping you anymore, when it's only obvious he's the one due to be sleeping with you this time. Again."

Illidan cringed. "Vashj and I... we're past that. We're just friends now."

Kael'thas was ready with another retort when Vashj flared, "Hardly!" and surprised everyone, including herself. She recovered from blushing quickly, "Illidan, I always hated you for dropping me for Saturna."

"I never dropped you for anything, Vashj. We were casual-" she was affected by this, and screeched like some horrid tropical bird, "And I went after Saturna because of a similar causality. Because of my anger and the Soul Link."

"Because of your lussst!" Vashj continued to punctuate any speech of his on this point, with riled screeches.

"Yes, both. The same with you. I could never love anyone except for Tyrande."

"You idiot! You could never love anybody, least of all Tyrande, if that is how you see us women. As mere females. I should gut you here and now for showing such little concern. At leassst I thought we two were the same, that we were both cruel enough and you could imagine my ssside of it and consider my feelings."

Kael'thas smirked. "I'm with her, Illidan. You heartless rake." And the point of his cheer was obvious. Vashj was dismantling her alliance with Illidan well enough on her own.

"Oh, piss off, Kael'thasss!" Vashj sniped. "Why not ssset that arm down already when I can see your favorite hand starting to give. Aren't you afraid that you'll need that, for when I get back from the past and finish fixing it so that no female anything will sssleep with you-ever!"

"Fortunately, I am used to the lonely bookworm mage, chronic masturbator jokes." Kael'thas wasn't laughing though. Clearly, it was still a blow pretty close to home, for him. "Vashj, how exactly, do you intend to get me out of the picture once you're done fixing the past? Any version of me would loathe you getting the upperhand with Illidan. We've seen that a thousand and more times, by now, you must have realized that everytime you leaped back, I was still in the way, between yourself and Illidan. No Shuru'kaal could sway me at the Black Temple. Not even the collar could keep me safely out of the way of your meddling with him, while at Tempest Keep."

Vashj hesitated in her answer.

Kael'thas took a breath and renewed a push, of his arm. "Illidan, don't you even worry that Vashj won't tell you what she's planning to do in the past, this time?"

Illidan looked to her. "You always did before. I couldn't hope to give you any forecasting of the necessary sequences with my powers, before you indulged bragging about what was going to change."

"Yes, but that was information offered, not needed. Not part of our agreement. You help me with anything I want, I make sure that Tyrande remains yoursss, by any meansss necessary."

"That's as about as bad as my collar-deal, way back when, Illidan."

Illidan thought about it for a long time, while Vashj's stretched arm blushed electric red-green, and Kael'thas sniffed through sweat dripping from the end of his nose.

Beneath them all, Azshara began to scrape at the ice-floor, with needle encisors.

"Dammit, Illidan, the ward is failing! Ssscyth'lerin will be felled at the gates any moment, you can hear it happening... press the last damned button, or Azshara will kill us all. Now is the time!"

Illidan said, "Tell me, Vashj. What are you going to do, to eliminate Kael'thas opposing us this time around?"

"Well, I'm going to kill him, of courssse, which you don't mind. Haha. Look, Kael'thas, at how he doesn't defend you at all. So, the Blood Elf Prince-whatever has finally gambled with his friend and lossst. I precede you. Illidan and I have been friends longer."

Kael'thas spoke quickly, "Listen to her, Illidan, that is precisely why you know she is lying to you now. You know her better than I do, you two are friends-"

"Still not helping your case, Kael'thas. Sssorry. Press it Illidan."

"...Illidan, it is not me Vashj seeks to kill. I can't tell you who it is she's really after, you know that. If I say who it is, you won't believe me, when you're so tensed against me in this moment. So, ask her. Make her, in the way I know you still can. Now, Illidan!"

"You don't order me!" he shouted at everyone.

"You can't trussst him, but you could always rely on me, Oscur'Shalak..."

Kael'thas spoke over Vashj, "Before you wronged me, back when we were friends, Illidan, I always told you... well, mostly the truth. I did, at one time, care about you. Which is more than I can say for Vashj. And, another proof how much I care for your sake, though I can't stand to do it and it hurts like this... burning arm I'm still holding up, when I could just portal myself out of here with less effort and forget about you... Illidan, when you betrayed me I treated you as a true friend would. Like an equal. You fucked with my life and so then I got angry at you. I didn't lie to you and pretend everything was fine. Equals, brothers. They fight. They challenge one another. They rival and then they learn. What have you learned from Vashj, except for to be afraid of how tough this life is? I've been getting you to cut your teeth and sharpen your claws to face it and fight it back these last few years. Vashj has been coddling you, all the while dripping poison in your ears. And of course she wanted you soft-look at how much she's gotten away with and you still aren't happy for it."

Vashj gnashed her pointed teeth. "Kael'thas never liked thisss idea of being your brother. You think he's eager to play house now?"

"Do you see, Illidan? That is the best she can do, when I'm telling you that... I love you. I've hated you but I could never stop wanting to fight and see you get better. Because freeing you, liberates me. No one, apparrently not even an obsessed ex-fangirl Queen could love me unless I loved my sons equally, and I could not accept either Chao'thas for what you once did to end him, nor Belorim when you were once upon a time ago, after Icecrown, the only one who might save him-ironically, from Vashj! If I can't love my neighbor, then how in the fel am I going to love myself?"

"Oh, please ssstop the violins already, Azshara even looks sick of it. Illidan, I would do anything for you, anything, you know that. I have loved you in ways that this one never can. And another thing, when you are so perfectly great..." she took frightened, awestruck pause, "Who wouldn't, no matter how they are, or how they are made... deny you any form of love you may want? If I were Kael'thas I would love you as deeply as your madness requesssted. In exactly the way I know your desire still verges upon now. In that beautiful, broken mind."

Kael'thas was horrified.

"Yesss. Even that." Vashj's arm now trembled. "If it were me, and I knew that you wanted me, even if nature demanded that it disgust me, as a woman-lover, well, I would rip that part of myself out, ask to be exorcised of distassste for another man if it meant I could please you, my Lord."

Illidan did not move his arm. He did not blink. Kael'thas feared to even breathe. Vashj would go so far, pry so deep, twist so much...

"And then, when we lay together, my fresh young body against your own, my stiff male sssex against yours... I would thank you. And would kiss you all over again, and I would worship you something violent-whatever you pleased, greater than even what you longed for, from Saturna Whiteblade!"

"Vashj, I can't-"

"No, no, my love. Don't even ssspeak it. If I had been so blessed as Kael'thas with the mind and the magical acumen that you desperately fell for... then I would have gotten that sssilly bitch for you and delivered her precisely. We could enjoy her together. Isn't that that exactly what you would have wanted?"

Illidan shut his eyes. Kael'thas shook with rage as he held on with his conjuring arm, and found he could no longer even stare at the floor, where Azshara was all bright rapt attention. Even now, her servant Vashj could please her.

"I... sinned when I raped my brother's woman. I did not see it before, but Kael'thas helped me. As he said, he has challenged me and helped me. Forged for me a soul..."

"No, you did what was natural for you, a monssster. I never disagreed. I never tried to make you other than you were, in fact, I craved it-"

"Vashj. I am not a monster."

"Yes you are!" she laughed, because she was hurt. "Just like me. We are the same and always have been. Fine, I will admit it. You are the one. You are the one I have always ssschemed to be by. In Azshara's time, and now, when you would not have me, I have loved you enough to give you Tyrande, that trifle. Ssso convinced that even a snatch of your perceived happiness with her, or a touch of you, through your brother, might sate my eternal need of you, over millenia. You cannot forget the past, but I cannot forsake our future together. In Outland, we came so close, before that idiot Sunstrider got involved. Love, my vile bitter-sweet. We are wrecked people, Illidan." a tear passed down her cheek. "There is no saving usss. We can only writhe and try to smile, through out hate. It is a burning that we deserve. Because we have been so abused. Azshara should have died and left me the kingdom I deserved, after I sacrificed everything for her time and again and she had no daughter. And she said to me, 'I have no daughter Vashj. I love only you. That is why I have made you to suffer. Only the bessst of mine can know my wounds." Vashj cried down at the floor now. "You said to me, ssstill such an impressionable novice priestess, that it was an honor to drink your pain and be struck on the head with your staff and fight to realize your cruel dreams! Well who is dreaming now? I am. Vashj is and you will not succeed, Azshara. My Queen. You failed when you sent me before Illidan, to have sex with him and wrench him away from Tyrande ssso long ago. When you sent me before the Prophet himself, I felt real love. I saw bright things. I believed. Only ever with Illidan have I believed. And so now you see. All of you have to know and pity me for how I came so far, from the Maelstrom to Outland for him alone. Missserable me. Because in that man, before his stupid little brother got to him, is a person who truly could see. I did not make love to Illidan. He made love for me. I can love no one elssse except for who has become the Demon Lord. I regret nothing that I have done to keep you. I like you better now, for the creature I have crafted myself into being, such that, even with the rush of Venom in your veins, we can be together."

Kael'thas' arm gave out. He fell to his knees. Vashj cried with relief and hurried Illidan ahead. But her old friend, he would not press the crystalline button.

A long crack grew in the black ice floor. Azshara, needy to see the drama resolve.

Illidan opened that handsome mouth to a smile, at first, then had another breath. A better breath, it seemed. "The only way, in which Kael'thas could never oppose us is if he did not exist. And you could not kill him before. You should have, it isn't hard to go back a little further, nine months further, and kill the boy's mother Anthene'alas. But you didn't."

"I wouldn't."

"...Because you are afraid of what I would do to you, if you ever hurt him. If I sensed that you did."

"Not in a world where you never knew him-"

Kael'thas still nursed his arm. He buried face in his shoulder. "Exactly..."

"Vashj," Illidan continued. "That is how much you love me. That you would destroy me, through my friend, make me into something lost and miserable, in order to keep me in your clutches. All this time, you've hated Saturna Whiteblade, for usurping your place, this dream beside me as Queen of the Black Temple in the Outland we conquered together. But, in truth, you are no better than even a fangirl."

"Don't you dare, ever compare usss!"

"How far back, Vashj, would you have to venture, to erase Kael'thas without any evidence of what you've done? As far as Dath'remar himself? Further still? 'The night is going to grant her passage.' I've seen that, today. I told that to you. It was a warning."

Vashj banged the glistening console, when the green lights began to go out.

"Vashj. Only if there are no Blood Elves at all... that is the only way you would be able to erase Kael'thas from my life without history or any one person's broken memory letting on what might have been."

"Ssso what! You're hungry to fuck Saturna and have Kael'thas as your brother in one age, and now you're foaming at the mouth to keep Kael'thas in your lap, with me as sssomething like her unlucky sister-Illidan make up your broken mind. A woman who loves you can only ssstand so much back-and-forth."

"In order to make it impossible for the Blood Elves to exist, Azeroth could have never fallen to the Legion or the Well of Eternity shattered by the flowing sea. The Naga could have never been created, Azshara could have never faced challenge enough by Malfurion or Cenarius... or, by Tyrande. Most of all, Tyrande, who knew the Legion was coming and asked for help. Tyrande is the one who I have always loved, your greatest rival."

"Me disappearing is really just one of the consolation prizes." Kael'thas helped him.

Illidan shook his head. "You would kill Tyrande? You would get rid of the one rightful Moon Priestess and put the world at such great risk-"

"I know what happened! I could replace her by your ssside easily, when I'm also trained for it. Tyrande fell out of favor with goddess Elune long ago."

"Because you tainted the past and must have forced her onto the path of an unthinkable destiny!"

"Together, without her, we can prevent all of it, stop Malfurion from winning, and even outwit Azshara so that we two could take the kingdom for ourselvesss! Lie again, and tell me that you don't want it."

"You'd destroy everything and get nothing, don't you see that!" He shouted back. "Which is worse than what the Legion ever wanted-at the least, they wanted Azeroth in tact, at least they wanted something to spoil. You would enslave the first race of sentients, the Kal'dorei, to an era of darkness and misery under the heel of a woman who knows nothing of the Light rituals, who has been rejected by the moon-goddess, who rejects the bright future we mortals have gleaned from events. And it has been a tribulation, Vashj. Why can't you see that it's all a necessary fight? We can't go pampered through this life, get something for nothing. You've not changed at all-"

"Yes I have! I changed myssself, for you!"

"No. You have degraded me. You know how I struggle, with the Venom plaguing my mind and body, my very spirit. You have patronized me, indulged mocking the illness of my soul. Do you really believe, that through all I have suffered, I don't recognize that, once upon a time, Malfurion did try to help me, but his patience gave out? Or that Tyrande loved me deeply, but could not go on following me into the darkness as well?"

The nightmare flashed a final time. Scyth'lerin called out, in the dark, that Azshara's vengeful armies were breaking through. With them came the roar of heavy ocean-water.

Only Illidan's voice remained as tangible, familiar. The primal fear of being lost ebbed at every chance of hurt in his voice. Would he withdraw from you here, and leave you to drown, if you displease him?

"There aren't any strikes for you left, Vashj."

Ink black. The sound of raw ocean thundering in. Kael'thas' voice yelled, a shimmer of some fruitless magic. Frantic breaths. The loud ache of metal adornment, like a ship's hull unable to take the strain of so much water, bending it. Glass-break once, thrice, everywhere beneath. Something wild and hideous sounding raged up. Garbling, rioting, seething, singing-a female monster. Screaming to be sated, fiending to be ridden by her nasty kin, the worst of creatures, unashamed of her gargantuan, disgusting want.

Another flash of lightning, and one could see both of Vashj's arms raised from the racing waters, reaching to Illidan. He himself had strong arm wrapped around a wire column. A vortex formed. Azshara called. She swallowing.

Vashj lashed tail hard, against the rush of water, but even the strongest Naga swimmers would not have been able to escape, unaided. "Damn you, Illidan! Will you love me, at lassst, or your constant illusionsss?"

"Life is but an illusion," Illidan mourned.

Kael'thas shouted, "The fel it is! We're getting ripped apart and I definitely feel it. Illidan, choose!"

Vashj grabbed hold of him, clearly determined to force the answer, herself. Illidan snarled back. Kael'thas held fast to the other side of the metal wire column, the one stable thing in that place. He watched, Kael'thas finally gave over to everything that had hoped inside of him, when Illidan kissed Vashj, then used claws to stab her through the heart. The brief show of tenderness, only a distraction when she was so powerfully angry in the end.

Then, the two men watched her bleed and drown. Azshara gurgled laughter as Kael'thas cast a final blink-spell.

_Later, on higher ground..._

On the white shores of the ever autumnal land above Orgrimmar... and it was a constant joke in what used to be the Alliance, that the constantly dying land was a sign, Kael'thas ordered Illidan Stormrage to kneel before him.

"First you just sit there, while Vashj seduced me in Darnassus, then you conspire to steal some poor man's baby, and now I find you've been scheming with Vashj to pass back and forth through time? This is-" so angry, and also perplexed at how silly it really was, Kael'thas sputtered and cut himself off. "You betrayed me, for the third time since I enslaved you."

Illidan laughed and shrugged. Saltwater still dripped over his sun-stained bare shoulders. "You'll forgive me, Kael'thas, you always do. In fact, I'm feeling a little nostalgic... if we were in each other's shoes, this would have been one of those times that you lay dead or dying, after the second-strike with me."

"You think this is mercy? The only reason there are no strikes with me, Illidan, is because I don't enjoy playing games with people's consciences-"

"You? Don't make me laugh. How many times did you lie and manipulate the very protectors standing right there behind you, Kael'thas? I may have gone back and forth to Nazjatar this past decade and watched Vashj come and go, but my brain hasn't taken giant leaps backward into foolishness."

"I'll prove it. Give me the Whiteblade."

Sunthraze raised his eyebrows. Kael'thas had to shout to get them to trust their own monarch with it. When at last the bright sword was handed over, all the Bloodknights took an instinctive step back. Kael'thas played with it at first, and he did look foolish. But, once the Bloodmage got the feel for handling a sword again, wild slices through the air tightened. The sun gleamed against the blade, but not even light could catch the full length of it, Kael'thas was able to handle the magical sword with such impressive deftness. Finally, one artful swoop brought the blade down, to point at the center of Illidan's violet brow, exactly between his two horns. A wonder, that Kael'thas had not cut either of them off.

Kael'thas stood, pointing that same sword which nearly killed Illidan before, a second time.

"Don't miss."

Kael'thas ground teeth at Illidan's goading him. "You haven't learned a thing. That only encourages me."

"Of course I've learned. I've learned not to hand over the reigns of my life to a crazy sea-witch and definitely not you, the lesser of two evils."

"You make three."

"I had to kill Vashj. I could not possibly live knowing how she schemed to mold my life all along... or to mold herself after my own pitiful image. What I dwindled to, I did out of despair. But Vashj chose to be so vile. I am not better than her for many reasons. There is one, however, which should matter to you, Kael'thas. I chose to protect life. I chose to get rid of my most powerful ally-"

"Vashj was more of an addiction."

"I want to be better. Kael'thas, I know that you believe in second chances. I was arrogant before, but now I am trying to be humble. Please believe me. Don't... take my life away, in cold blood. You still own me. You still control all that I do-"

"Liar. You just complained to me, Illidan, that I should not have control over you. Now you pretend to find comfort in it? Or, was the first thing out of your mouth, on this beach, the truth and now this is the lie? That's just it. No one can trust you. No one can really understand you. You've done too much against too many. Why did none of us listen, when Malfurion and finally, Tyrande, had given up? That should have been a big, blaring clue!"

"We cannot erase the past. I can only try and promise you that this time-"

"Yes you can. In so many ways, these last ten years, Illidan... you really have erased the past. And, still, you got it wrong. Oh, Illidan. If only you could see directly into my heart right now. I feel this... black blood pulsing through every chamber. It's so cold. It has no compassion whatsoever left for you. It doesn't care. I just wants to kill you and shut you up and let that be it!" Kael'thas' hands on the blade trembled as he took anxious breath. "You should have chosen Vashj. Whenever she got around to using you up and spitting you out, it would have been a mercy, compared to what I am going to do to you now."

"The ancients are all but gone. I suppose Illidan, too, must fall. Fine. I'm ready for it. I'll haunt your nerdy ass from the afterlife, but I am ready for it."

Kael'thas was not amused. "You raped and murdered my love. You killed my son. You put a collar around my neck. You left me fully exposed to the cruelty of the Burning Legion, and you helped Vashj to murder my mother."

"Technically, she hadn't asked me to decode the sequence for her, yet-"

"It is the same! Shut up, Illidan. I did repent. I tried to guide you properly this last decade, and I fought hard for my family and my kingdom. But you never earned the clemency Thrall cheated and gifted to us, before we were due. I see now, that I was the only one in our triad who ever hoped to earn that forgiveness."

Illidan swept a hand over his eyes, and the blindfold. It seemed he cried, but then he took the cloth away. "It seems, the hate you harbored for me all this time, brother, will help you afterall-"

Kael'thas slashed once with the sword. The suck of blade hitting flesh, then coursing clear through bone. Then, a second time, this one roaring hard and meaning not to miss.

The Demon Lord collapsed in the white dirt.

"You're right, Illidan. I could not have finally done that, unless I still hated you so very much."

Now, Sunthraze was afraid to take the sword back when Kael'thas handed it up. Their King did not seem a better person for it. His look, his movement, the way he leaned wrong on his Hawkstrider as they left Illidan to rot, their great angry King was stricken.


	25. Thalassian Autumn

**MLFMP**- a story of fangirl delusion, Bloodknight zealotry and heartfelt recovery.

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Thalassian Autumn**

When Kael'thas returned home, he was greeted by his very pregnant, jubilant wife. He was used to Saturna going gleefully on and on, but it was a while before he understood she was talking about the Sunwell.

"What do you mean, it's be restored! By whom?"

"It's a surprise, come on, I'll show you. I promise that I am not lying to you or playing with your heart at all, why aren't you smiling? This is perfect news, and you know I would never do that to you, Kael'thas."

"Except when there's a baby that might stick us together."

"I... you forgave me for that. Let's not go back in time, now."

Kael'thas apologized, and had to sit down. Saturna yanked him back up again. "Come on and see what your father has done!"

The scene at Quel'danas was unreal. Kael'thas had this feeling, that he'd seen it all before. The red temple with gold veined marble columns was humming like a contented mother-magic. The dome above had been blasted out, and it wasn't any wonder why. Doing such a thing as restoring a shard of the Well of Eternity couldn't result in anything less. So long ago, he had a vague memory of Anveena herself emerging from the boiling pool, carrying a blue woman in her arms...

Once upon a time, Saturna had been a shade, herself.

"You can't mean that my father did this? You mean that his magic..."

Kael'thas stopped. Thrall was there with Belorim, May and several other shamans, discussing the present state of things. There was another flash of shadow, and Kael'thas gaped up at the ruined dome again. A red dragon. A green dragon. A blue dragon, then a black and a bronze tumbled through the air, fighting one another. Too far high up to be any harm for Quel'danas or its shields, but all the same...

"Dragons of every color, are fighting one another." Saturna explained to him. But she did not remember what that meant. How could she have?

Thrall intruded upon Kael'thas' thinking next. "You should hear this. Because of the venom yourself and Illidan share-"

"He prophesied this. Illidan said all the dragon-races would come and fight over the Sunwell one day."

Thrall rolled his eyes. "I was in the middle of speaking to you. Kael'thas, you and your venom-brother are in grave danger, but with the Sunwell restored I can finally tell you, that I've been working with the Earthen Circle to find a cure for the Legion's influence all along. This magic should go far to perfect our serum end your craving, and that of anyone else's family line that's been infected..."

"Venom-brother?"

"Yes. But you knew about the Venom already. How are we crossed-paths, here?" He leaned on the reversed hilt of his axe."

"You said, brother, however. You said... you implied that there is a family line, a connection?"

"Illidan and yourself both have the Venom in your blood. Your ancestors were both exposed to fel-addiction among the highborne class, thousands of years ago. Dath'remar did it... recreationally... but Malfurion entrapped Illidan in a nest of them, where he was mawed. It's the source of his madness. I thought Vashj had told you?"

"She wouldn't have." Kael'thas took a breath.

Saturna eyed him warily. "What's gone wrong? Sorn said you all successfully mended the rift. It happened about the same time Thrall, Belorim and May had success up here. Sweetheart? Kael'thas, hold on to me... Thrall, he's fainting-"

The shamans rushed over, helped Kael'thas to lay down flat. To him, it was like so many years ago, when he was going in an out of sleep, a dream Illidan had given him when they were brothers. The glow of the restored Sunwell was now like the gold warmth of the campfire set between them. The jagged dome of the temple like the crests of forest-trees, ignited canopy. As Illidan spoke, the dragons swooped through the sky. He was so convinced that it was real, that they were brothers, that the dragons would be at war over the Sunwell. Only a matter of time...

"Kae'lthas?" Thrall's wrinkly green bald head was suddenly in the way. "When we were done interrogating Lady Novia, she helped fill in that your ancestor Dath'remar and Illidan were, in fact, bitten or envenomed by the same monster. That is how the Legion-Magic works. People are drawn together, and drawn towards evil. It was never completely on you or him. That was the Legion's back up plan for invasion. Fail at the Well of Eternity or fail at the World Tree, the survivors of the old times would eventually crave more and more of fel magic, re-organize themselves exactly according to the brood-lines of the venom-demons. Not unlike ranks in an army. That, not Vashj's manipulation, is probably the real reason why you and Illidan were drawn to one another and remained side by side. In every magical aspect, you two are brothers. Back when Illidan was an effective prophet, before he went mad, something of this nature was his last prophecy. Tyrande helped myself and the Earthen Ring to see that Illidan had seen it coming all along, had tried to manipulate events to fit this future. Anyways, I'll have to craft the serum for the both of you."

"...Huh? But he's... and Vashj is gone."

"Uh oh. The royal-junkie is finally bonkers. Saturna, did you give him anything this morning?"

"Me? I don't help Kael'thas with his addictions. IN fact, I thought he was clean. Are still on drugs, you shifty son-of-Sunstriders? Are you?" Saturna began to shove Kael'thas.

He felt himself rocking. What a horrible thing. What a terrible thing. And then, to think he almost... Kael'thas felt a strong wind blowing. He saw Illidan kneeling over him, not Thrall.

_Kaelthas? Wake up. I told you so. _Illidan laughed, _I told you so, haha! And to think, for so long, you never doubted me, you were the only one who believed in me, that it was a benign madness, a powerful heart behind it all..._

But this was just Kael'thas' guilt speaking to him, when he wanted to see Illidan happy. Kael'thas shut his eyes, over their yelling for a physician. He felt sick with himself.

_Now that the Sunwell was restored, everyone said that things were going to get better..._

Understandably, Celestia and Blaize were electrified when they heard the news.

"We've finally been invited to a party by legitimate society, my handsome, flawless husband!"

Blaize licked finger and turned a page of newspaper. "Not to mention that King Kael'thas defeated Vashj and the last vestige of Demon influence in Azeroth, and the Sunwell has been restored... by the Earthen Ring and Thrall himself, it sounds like. Though, the more I think about it, without the Legion around, Kael'thas himself would now be the next biggest Demonic threat to our existence..." a sigh.

"And May and Belorim helped Warchief Thrall, and a chorus of happy spirits from the afterlife too, blah blah blah... Oh what a day! What a glorious marvelous day to be finally invited to a proper Thalassian ball, a fair, a grand thing, a festival, whatever the hell it is-shall I wear the red, or the gold, or the blue?" When his wife neared the couch, Blaize tugged the skirt of her dress. She frightened into a pretty squeal, then turned to kiss him. "And you're still here with me too, aren't you Nate?"

A wink, "Please, don't ever call me Nate. That's what my victims, the simple, easy women or lonely women fell into calling me. In any case, where else would I be, my darling, except near you?"

"Oh, I don't know, anyplace but here. Not in this mansion, or without my very good regal name..." She finished singing and Blaize wrapped arms around her.

"You're different, Celestia. We managed being poor together, remember? So then, I must love you."

Celestia blushed. "No, Sir, you love my money."

"I'm wounded. How wrong you are woman, wounding me like this! I do love your body too, you know..."

She went into wild, delighted laughter as husband kissed more and more of her, solicited fierce hugs, which were given, and still more affection too good for the moment when it seemed the rest of the world was just barely falling apart. Though, it was at least consistent with the way Blaize and Celestia were, always finding joy in the destruction of others.

He went on, "Now, in order to determine your wardrobe for this invitation to Lord whomever's house..."

"It could be a Lady, you know, Blaize. A fashionable lady greater than even Rachel Darkweaver who is a powerful columnist with the world at her feet and two cute, cute husbands. Imagine me getting acquainted with some magnanimous, wonderful Lady of the Court even higher than the Darkweavers. Oh, but maybe you think me exceptionally shallow, to already be on the verge of tossing out our old friends-"

"As I was saying, about your dress..."

"Oh, Blaize! If you don't get dressed right now and give me a sense of what you're going to wear to the party, I'll just lose myself. This could be another, better set of friends than the United Elven Alliance Social Club, our chance to finally be admitted into perfect company, it'd make Kael'thas know his place with me, once and for all. I'm a worthy woman, I was a Queen and am a Sunstrider by law and right-we are equals! I can hardly bear settling up with that smug punk at last. Everyone says the host for the evening to end all evenings is a mystery on purpose, meant to be a heart-stopping surprise."

"... Let's work from the underthings first, and then figure the rest." Blaize kissed her, "Is what I was going to say."

"But I can't be seen in anything poorly arranged, I don't understand-"

"Celeste, come upstairs with me. Take off your clothes..." then she got it. And so it went on being a wonderful match between them.

The entire kingdom was already celebrating for weeks, because of the Sunwell. This mysterious invitation seemed as if it would become the apex of all that. Though, to be honest, so many Blood Elves wandering through the city and countryside wearing transparent solar festival suits was unsettling to visitors who came to Quel'thalas to get a sense of the revelry. It was, in so many ways, a victory for the world.

However, only the best of the best of the 'high class native breed', as Celestia put it, were invited to the celebration at another sort of neglected mansion from the Anasterian Era. That's what people were beginning to call it. This land was organized much like the Sunthraze Estate Celestia and Blaize just recently got hold of. A maze of gardens lined either side of a broad road. Trees hanging over the way dropped white leaves and aromatic flower petals. "So many magnolias!" Celestia marveled.

"Something important about magnolias... who liked those, back at court? We had to have the blossoms pretty much everywhere. It was definitely annoying."

"Oh Blaize, don't ruin it." Celestia leaned back into their carriage and swatted him to be quiet. "We're finally in polite society! Wahahaha!"

"Calm down, you sound like a madwoman. My madwoman..."

The only drawback to becoming so important was that all the people due to hate them were there. Every single Bloodknight, fangirl-queen, crossed royal or doused old flame sneered or startled and dropped their hors'd oeuvres when Celestia trotted in waving, dragging her husband, already chatting loudly. They were over-dressed, obnoxious, uncooth, unwanted. But, no matter howmany people tried to find the servant in charge and request the Blaize-Sunstriders be removed (for that is how Blaize agreed it should be hyphenated), it was asserted that Celestia and the old General were on the list and wanted by the Master of the House, right on that property.

It all finally came to a head, when someone finally realized they had something they could do about it.

"I'm going to let the hot air out of this whole thing." Sunthraze strutted up to Blaize and matched the Celestia on his arm with a very cleopatra-eyed Tempestraven. The rest of her bright purple dress wasn't much better. She made a ragged cough in their faces, then returned to smile a new kiss against her cigarette.

"We're not leaving." Warned Blaize.

"Oh, that's alright because we don't really want you to. We were waiting for a chance to speak to you personally anyways, weren't we Tempest? General Nathaniel Blaize Liadrin Whiteblade Sunstrider... you're my baby-daddy." said Sunthraze over Tempest's sudden powerful snickering.

"Excuse me?" Then Blaize complained that he and Liadrin weren't ever technically married.

Celestia was focused on the worst of it though, and raised her eyebrows.

"Roann Sunthraze was not my father. My mother had an affair with you, Blaize, and Anasterian Sunstrider is the one who discovered it. Tempest and I are broke so we were already looking into it, but then the old King ghost-man himself appeared to us a few days ago and confirmed it. Your greatest fear."

"No, my greatest fear is that Kael'thas will somehow wrangle an excuse to return to Outland again, or that Saturna will turn out to still be married to me, though I do remember giving her a divorce... but it was NEVER that I'd be a father, when I know for a fact that I'm not-"

Tempest laughed and blew cigarette smoke before she could even say it, "Haha! What? Don't you know the pull-out method never works?"

Blaize flushed red.

"Liadrin likes to tell us Nexites eeeeverything. Hrmhaha... so then, do I get to call you Daddy too? Daddy-in-law?"

"Ho no!" Celestia thundered, "We'll have a magical examination of you first of course, Sunthraze, to determine paternity-" and to Blaize, "by a Magister we'll pay off."

"You believe them, Celeste?"

"I was the one who reminded you of the affair with Sunthraze's mother, it's in my diary. But don't worry, dear. This is just a classic case of people trying to take advantage of wealthy relatives all of a sudden. I know how to protect against that."

"I mean," Sunthraze blabbed loudly, "It makes so much sense. The red hair, the scheming for money all the time, our 'I hate Kael'thas with a jagged passion phases', that rabid interest in fast and frightening women... oh, and we both were in love with Saturna, practically around the same time at the Black Temple for all the wrong reasons." Sunthraze made a face.

"Was it really so wrong, sweetie? I mean, Blaize wanted her money and you wanted a mommy... was Blaizy-wazey looking out for his boy all this time? Haha! You two sick bastards were on the same team for years."

Sunthraze cheered, "We think, like, exactly the same... DAD!"

Blaize lost his footing, his knees went weak all of a sudden. Celestia was able to swing her hip and bolster him up. "The two of you-this is the WORST joke ever played on anyone, don't you know that? And I thought my Kael'thas had you fixed by the Unmaker. Get away, you filthy little Bloodknights, shoo!"

"Fine, we'll just go back on home-to the Sunthraze Estate-and pick out a room."

Tempest smiled with her husband Sunthraze. "So you see, even if he's not named proper-like, he's still Blaize's son so it still fits. Ha!" then Tempest got into hacking from the smoke.

Sunthraze broke into a wild smile, then ushered his leggy woman away. Celestia swatted Blaize for ogling, before the old General came back to his senses.

"Oh gods! That mouthy midget is right, I can feel it. That snarky bastard, the one who'd never leave me alone... he's my son. He's my horrible, failure of a son? Naga back-dealing, turning my army against me, and worshipping Kael'thas, all of it? Ugh. I need a drink. Dearest Celeste, please go and get me one."

She made Blaize sit down first.

Across the room, Kael'thas leaned in and whispered to Saturna. "It means Sunthraze is going to get fat too, so maybe he'll finally shut up. Thank the Light."

Saturna clucked her tongue, then hid her smile. "I'm just glad you're finally feeling well enough to get out and celebrate. Here, have some more water, Sunshine..."

Meanwhile, Sorn and Liadrin sipped wine together near the refreshment table and its golden appointments.

"Are we finally going to talk about it?"

"Why should we? We're together now, that's all that matters. It's always been a tacit thing between us. Natural, warm friendship grown into something more..."

"With no commitment made. Lia, why won't you let me claim you?"

"Ugh, oh don't put it like that."

"It's not enough that our friends know we are together, I want to take you around, I want to speak about you as 'my Liadrin', 'my woman.'"

"The woman you won from King Anasterian?"

Sorn began shaking his head, but she set her drink down, swiftly.

"Don't walk away from me, Lia. Whatever it is, please, for the last time, just tell me what we are, what I can do for you if I'm really yours?"

She blinked rapidly and dabbed at tears with a handkerchief. "Why else do you think _they're_ so happy, across the room?"

Sorn followed Liadrin's glance. Did she truly mean the once Sunfury General who'd let himself go so completely that he was now collapsed in a chair with his sad last resort, the jilted Queen of Anasterian attempting to force brandy down his jiggling gullet?

"Lia-she's practically attempting to drown him and collect the inheritance and title, in public."

"Will you stop, making everything that makes me miserable so light and... Sorn?"

"Yes, Lia?"

"I can't be the woman you sneaked away from Anasterian. I am me. I am Liadrin who has made so many bad political decisions, and kept picking the wrong men over and over..."

"I'm not touching the subject of the Bloodknights. But, are you afraid that I am the wrong man for you? It's what you said."

She had a seat and blew her nose.

Sorn continued, "Or, are you terrified that I am really someone who cares for you, and has been waiting for you, Lia, with more patience and passion-steady and solid-the sort of man you've given up on?"

"I am the one Blaize scandalized and cloistered. I am the one Anasterian used and ruined! I am the one who started a train-wreck of an order of Blood Elf paladins. Yes, I said it-paladins! We're all just paladins, deep down-the lot of them are mind-controlled into being competent now..."

Sorn handed Liadrin back her wine. "I am not interested in you because you once belonged to a Sunstrider King. Liadrin, I love you because you are passionate and silly. The one who stayed sweet and hopeful about our kingdom when I'd practically fled to Outland, despaired. I had fully built myself up for Kael'thas to join the Burning Legion. I never told anyone else that. Lia, you saved me from it. All this time, I was focused on my work, only willing step back and look at the horror of it all, enabling Kael'thas in his addiction, watching the heir destroy himself... I could only say, 'Sorn, this is all happening for a reason. Keep going, uphold your oath.' Then and now I believe in the power of the line, of the promise of Dath'remar. Illidan Stormrage gave the old king a vial of powerful magic. It held more of a miracle than the Sunwell. No, that was just the beginning. The Sunstriders were going to do more than mimic the Well of Eternity. They were going to fulfill prophecies, champion over the critics and the vultures, the weak and the unkind. What amazing power keeps people together, even after absolute destruction by the Burning Legion and the Well of Eternity, then Arthas and his Plague? That vial, that promise... this is my religion. It was terrible to let it go, I couldn't. I was getting out of control, I felt it."

He continued, "But now, Lia, after seeing you deal with it so gracefully... This is what I believe today, that Quel'thalas has not fallen. It is yet to emerge. We are only in another fall-an autumn, Lia. Another, better season is coming, out of this one. We Blood Elves are going to be the first people to forgive the wounds of the world, through embracing Kael'thas. And, in turn, he has shown Azeroth a new way to have faith, inspired them to believe that any power is accessible. We are all good enough. Predated upon as we are, addicted as we are, there is still a Light inside each of us. Whether it was placed there by a benign goddess, or our faces inspired to gaze upon it, collected into a divine Sunwell over generations, every soul is great enough to re-emerge, seize the best of himself and-with the love and support of others-find some way to survive."

Sorn knelt beside Liadrin's chair. "Logic dictates that none of this should have ever happened, but yet, here we are, in a room with so many other souls who've been saved. Azeroth can stop struggling to survive now, because of the Sunstriders. The world can begin to thrive, to really live. My dreams have been realized, I'm looking her in the face, but first of all, I have to see. Don't you look backward. Are you listening to me, Liadrin? Truly hearing me, after all that people like us, of our generation, have been through?"

She lay a hand on his shoulder. "I've just been hurt so much... I wanted Anasterian and Blaize to be the right lovers, so badly... and Quel'thalas too, the way it used to be..."

"Let it go. Liadrin, the past always looks easier, if you think about it, because it's so far away. It takes no energy to tend the past. You also realize, it's a way of escaping reality, throwing your hands up and saying that things should just be easier, like before, when life-real, rich, vibrant life-is never so simple. But clinging to that old perspective in order to numb the hurt each time, that is never going to deliver you."

"You make my regret sound like some addiction."

"I can't decide for you, Lia, what it's like. The war was terrible for all of us, and the scars are still so deep. I just want you to feel better. Quit this game of torturing yourself. Please, try?"

She hugged him and began crying all over again. "You are my one friend Sorn. You understand me, thank you."

"Liadrin, you are the reason. We would have never come together if I hadn't endured through all that with Kael'thas, to meet you once you were ready to love again. I begged fate for delivery on the worst nights, and all the while I waited, you were healing and needing the same: a person holding on just for you. I'm here now, and it was so worth it."

She rolled tearing eyes, "Or, you could have just asked me out more than twenty years ago..."

Now, the old sweethearts could laugh.

When she was recovered, Sorn brought Lady Liadrin over to Kael'thas. "Now, then, my young King, are you ready to leave off all this scorn? I heard a rumor that this amazing mystery host is going to reveal himself soon. You should practice smiling."

Kael'thas shrugged. "Pretty sure I can still fake it."

Saturna squeezed his arm, "Oh, don't..."

"I'm kidding of course. You won't ever catch me saying victory is sweet, but being here and alive-free... All of us here are finally free. So in answer to your question about scorn... No, Sorn, I don't think I need you anymore."

Sorn heated, "I thought we were done with that little joke, about my name."

"You see!" Kael'thas cheered, "I only ever faked it."

Liadrin had become delighted again, but Sorn scowled and informed Kael'thas, on the spot, that he was retiring.

"Oh, let him go..." Saturna prevented Kael'thas from making a scene over it. "Don't you think it's time, anyways? Look how nice they are together."

"Eck, Sorn is older than even my father would have been, if he lived. This is not the time to be thinking of old people sex."

And it really wasn't...

Over the Queen's scandalized laughter, and the rapture of so many others facing the head of the room, caught up in clapping, whistling for a golden spectre-a trick of the light or magic, they weren't yet sure-to finally reveal itself up on the balcony. The emerging figure waved to them all. Green, elven eyes, a firm thrust of hand, as if swatting them all away.

Having pushed to the front of the throng to see him, Celestia checked herself. That tangible arrogance, so familiar...

Next came the cruel, twisted smile.

The sort of look which faded from Kael'thas now.

"... Father?"

Celestia screamed.

The ghost of King Anasterian Sunstrider slapped the bannister with what should not have been a corporeal hand, then held on, threw his blonde head back, laughing.

"Oh, how I missed that sound, of people suffering. Especially woman-people who could still manage to make my rotting gut surge!"

Kael'thas tore away from Saturna, shouted into the press of people to let him up there.

"Welcome, ishnu alla, to you miserable people, who fell for it, who practically paid for this house and all its haunted lands yourselves. Ah yes, and our sponsor for the evening, the United Elven Alliance Social Club..." Anasterian made a gesture in the direction of the Darkweavers standing behind him. Faltheriel fainted, and no one applauded that.

"What's wrong? Who murdered the music, who _killed _my party..." a sneer directly below him, where Celestia had turned into the people, to get away. Kael'thas was still several rows of bewildered guests back, trying desperately to get closer.

"And there's my boy! How are you, son? I hear you slayed dragons or something like that, cut up a Demon Lord. Good for you... Too bad you couldn't run a plain sword through that Arthas. So, I'm proud as always. Damn me, I'm being rude, aren't I? I should go mingle."

Silently the ghost took one step down the stairs after another. The anticipation was too much, and at the apex of it all, when Kael'thas was halfway there, and reached for his father, ghost Anasterian raised his arms, howled into villainous laughter, then flew through his son, through so many other people, sailed up to the high ceiling, burst the Goblin lanterns on that greatest crystal chandelier, and in so many sparks, screams, and theatric dropped-darkness Magnus the Unmaker could be heard fawning over in that moment-idiot-the world became a terrible abyss once again.

Anasterian sang.

One light came on. He faced Celestia, kissed her, left her transfixed. "You don't remember today, do you? All the magnolias I like? All the waste of money, food, devoted attention, and enchanted boob-job? It's our anniversary. Punkin."

She wanted to let go of him, but couldn't. Blaize, nor anyone else could enter that Light. Anasterian had somehow drawn Celestia into the pale blue light-wall of the afterlife itself.

"This is the day that you looked into my eyes-though they were looking down the length of you, no matter-you said that you loved me. Celestia, you promised to cherish me and worship me until death. Beyond death! I remember, because I had the vows specially written... I slipped, I called you Anthene'alas... you smiled and said that you understood. YOU UNDERSTOOD! Why? Why did you understand every flaw of my heart so well, Celestia?"

She cried, quivered lip, began to slide down the length of him. He held her flush arms, forced the embrace to last.

"I loved you, on that day...But I was afraid..."

"You used me! You'd played me like an instrument, even then, I was your lyre. You... BITCH! Haha... you all thought I'd rhyme that, didn't you? I die, and finally I have a sense of humor, a powerful one. This woman, do you know that she spent time at the royal library, during our courtship? She was reading all about my Anthene'alas. Copying her moods, claiming to have dreamed her same dreams, the very same ones my beloved once confessed to me. I said that I would never marry again, but you seduced me, Celestia. Not in body, not really-I could have had anyone. But deep where nobody should ever trespass... in my heart. In my tortured soul, Celestia. You wounded me and hurt me!"

"And how many did you target and destroy? With your madness!"

"I'm mad? I'm the one who's a whore and a liar? Ladies and gentlemen, have a look at the greater spectacle of the evening, a woman who's grown a sac and balls."

Anasterian finished his lonely clapping and said next, "Oh, but I'm not done yet. I've been dead. If only I could kill you... Trust, that I would have a long time ago, if I could have pointed to that chilled black heart, so easy to see among the other red, fleshy ones, from my afterlife, my hell of waiting... I will leave that to others more capable of ending you. And it will be a justice!"

The light returned. Kael'thas stood where his father had been. Celestia was left clinging to his red robes. Where was the ghost?

"Thrall?" Kael'thas asked over Celestia. "What is going on here?"

The Warchief and Farseer was not meant to be at the party, but suddenly, he was coming towards Kael'thas, through the sea of guests. May was even easier to see, her horns and shoulders shone above the crowd. Belorim walked at Thrall's other shoulder.

"Your father did a favor for us. He was the one who helped conjure the final magic needed, to restore the Sunwell. We said as much, but you were passed out. I also suppose Saturna feared to tell you or trouble you again. This is our trade, between Anasterian's ghost and the Earthen Circle, which deals regularly in spirits. Lady Liadrin?"

She would not let go of Sorn. "Warchief? Is this some attack-"

"King Anasterian, sworn by me to be a worthy spirit of sound mind and will, wants a fair hearing for a crime committed long ago, against the house of Sunstrider. You are to take the perpetrator into custody once it's proven by him, are you not?"

Kael'thas shoved whimpering Celestia off and got into Thrall's green face. "I'm the one to say who does what in my kingdom!"

"Will he have a fair trial or not? Time is short, we can't go dancing down to the courthouse when the man has already been waiting twenty years or more."

"...in a prison of his own making! In a hell of his own creation and he deserved it. He deserves it still!" Celestia was screaming.

"Mother! Be quiet. Thrall, if this is some conjuring to teach me another lesson, I won't forgive it. My own father-that man meant more to me than anything."

A voice returned, "Not more than Demon magic in your veins. Nor, competing with Prince Arthas, chasing after Jaina Proudmoore with your pants round your skinny, ashen-white, bookworm ankles. Then you went off to Outland and did the same damned thing with Illidan and a Saturna Whiteblade. Oh, Kael'thas, son. I'm not flattered now by all that sacrifice. Thrall, I don't have time for this."

"You don't have time for me? For your own son!"

Some of Kael'thas' friends came near and calmed him, insisted that it could not be the real Anasterian. The good king would never say it.

"Yes he would!" Celestia hastened up to her feet. "You don't know Anasterian like I did, he was a monster."

May asked, "And what did you do about it, Queen Celestia, when you learned your husband was a monster?" with Belorim in his horns and hooves beside her, she seemed to be taking the 'monster' element personally.

"He's charmed you too-you bovine fool, Annie always had a penchant for the meaty ones!"

May kicked a hoof and wanted to rush in. Anasterian's powerful, spooky laughter made it all worse.

"Show them your diary." Anasterian commanded.

Celestia refused. Liadrin was of a better mind now, she and Sorn seemed aware of something that the other's weren't. The three shared so much of their pasts with Anasterian together. Liadrin came forth, took a sword offered her by one of the Bloodknights, and then snatched the gold diary from the chain belt at Celestia's waist. Sorn helped, he came near and started flipping pages.

"Oh Sorn, there you go again, thinking you know better than I do." Celestia complained. "The answer not inside the book."

Everyone leaned in, while Sorn and Liadrin examined the metal etchings on the cover, the back, and its sharp edges. A dark stain obscured an important whorl of ancient symbols.

Liadrin's brow knit. She dropped her hand from Sorn's shoulder. "It's blood."

"It isn't! It's coffee, I dropped it. Tell them when I dropped it, Blaize. At that cafe in Dalaran, remember?"

Blaize opened his mouth but nothing came out. He and his wife never sat in the sunbleached cafes, that was Dannox. He and Dannox trying to escape from her and her lies. But why was she scheming with him this time, so desperately? Blaize couldn't sort out his feelings or the right response fast enough.

Anasterian's ghost returned to them. He lifted ethereal blue chin, pulled down a high collar, so much like Kael'thas' red regalia. "That is my blood, from this scar. Go on, Kael'thas, test it for the family trace. She slit my throat with that, in the Hall of Justice."

The confession came out so feeble in the end. An old man, finally feeling the weight of it.

Kael'thas had hardly passed his hand over the object before the mortality returning to his father's guise affected him too. His voice broke, "Liadrin. Arrest her."


	26. A deal made under the table

**MLFMP**- a story of fangirl delusion, Bloodknight zealotry and heartfelt recovery.

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: A deal made over the table, and then under the table, and then properly at a table. **

Dannox Darkweaver would not shut up about how he disliked the cafes in Silvermoon.

"This coffee is awful, what happened to those fiesty Venomspite perculators... and why are there no male waitresses?"

"You mean waiters, Dan. Waiter is the word you want. I don't know why not. Can we get back to me and my problems, now?" Blaize unfolded a newspaper in front of them, just like old times, and tapped an ad for a place to sublet over in Silvermoon's fast up-and-coming Alliance District.

"Not that I disagree Blood Elves, especially their women, can be that sexy, but what's wrong with this old world, not considering the tastes of people-well, with other tastes, other sexual orientations, I mean-"

"Yes, Dannox, I do know what you mean. Will you look at this advert, already?"

Dannox reached into the breast pocket of his fall coat, withdrew a slim pair of copper glasses, then put them on. Blaize was startled to learn that Dannox even used glasses, and it was worse that-damn the youth-they didn't diminish his impression at all. Now, Dannox was a person too handsome to be wearing glasses, and Blaize imagined a woman might long for him to take them back off. Or, maybe, a man who secretly hated his best friend deep down and was dying to check the brand and see if the pitiful things really were worth feeling so hot-jealous over.

Blaize tugged at a shining edge of the glasses to have his look, while Dannox playfully chuckled and clamped them onto his face with two flat palms. That it caused the two of to them to look like boys playing with a coveted gadget made Blaize finally stop. He decided that the copper frames were somewhat familiar. A fine pair from Glossten's, Rival Ricochet's, or the Men's Outfitters a few blocks down from their old sun-bleached haunt, once upon a time ago in Dalaran. The very cafe-with, yes, male and female waiters-where he and Dannox started this entire mess, scheming to read Celestia's gold diary.

Blaize wondered if Dannox's husband and wife knew that he still kept so many things of Novia's? Back in Dalaran, Dannox certainly hadn't bought something so nice with his own money. By the time Dannox, Mrs. Darkweaver, and the other Mr. Darkweaver (by the way, with three people married together, how had they decided on whose last name to use, and why in the world did they settle an entire future together on Faltheriel's reputation?) moved onto Enchanted Avenue, the three of them were such social pariahs as could never really go out shopping, at least not without a whole rank of personal guard.

Dannox folded arms on the table now and winked at Blaize, when he caught him staring. "Shh, don't tell anyone." How was it that best friends always knew what you needed? What you were secretly beating yourself up about?

Blaize sighed, "It's just that I was thinking. Somehow, after all that terrible adventuring meant to make us social equals, Dannox, you still have a gross lead on me. The ghost-land we traded you for the Sunthraze estate is going to be a fel-quarry, I probably need glasses now that I reflect on all the times I've had you read things to me, but I'll never get a pair as good as the ones you've got..."

"Mmm... yes, I do have quite a good pair. Though, I never imagined you'd invite me to compare them against yours."

Blaize snatched a fist next to his coffee cup and gave Dannox a warning look, to which his friend hastily apologized. "Sorry, I forgot that we'd already been through this. In fact, my General, I recall that I first seduced you in a dress-shop and failed, on a day just like this one many months ago. Not so cold, though. Brrr."

"And that's another thing, Dan. You've got two spouses to my none."

"So...? I mean... You aren't going to forgive Celestia, then? You're going to move out of that big fancy house of yours, and be heartbroken, prone-alone, I mean, somewheres?"

Blaize was a little uncomfortable now, because the maitre'd-who was definitely a well-dressed man for his profession-had just squeezed by their table among so many others in the crowded, brisk blue autumn outdoor seats, and Dannox's gaze didn't even so much as swerve.

"If you really want a place, General, don't blow," and here Dannox fought down immature laughter, "...what you intend to steal from Celestia's bank account on a place in Silvermoon. She was once a Queen, you know, even if she's a criminal now. You will, in fact, get in trouble. Don't stick so close."

"Let me guess, this is near to something the latest pretty bank teller in the Royal Exchange told you some nights ago."

"Oh? No, dammit, and it's a shame too, Blaize-there's a good joke about 'opening an account' in what you just said. Ha!"

Blaize smacked his forehead, then lay it on the table. "I hate this. I loved her, I really let myself love Celestia. And now she's gone. My good name, my land, my everything is in question too... and I'd never tell another soul but you this last thing, Dannox. You're the only friend I've got who's so free with himself... Another painful problem for me right now: I've never been so hard up in my life. But, tragedy of tragedies, I can't even look at another woman, because if I were to cheat again, it really would be over with Celestia... I can't even sort out in my head whether it would be cheating, or justice when she got herself thrown in jail, or whatever the hell else... I can't go through another divorce. I just get sick thinking about another damned separation."

"Oh, yes, that's right. Kael'thas peed on you the last time you had to fight for your wife-"

"That's NOT how it happened! Dannox, why does everything with you have to come out so over-sexed?"

There was an audible jostling at the tables around them, as other diners could no longer hide that they'd been over-hearing. Dannox was smiling brightly, intimating he would have been pleased for their lewd conversation to continue otherwise, but his renewed tone guided Blaize in hushing down. "My friend, you confessed to me that you're hornier than ever these days. I tried to diffuse your despair, and mine at hearing it, with laughter. Didn't work though, did it?" Blaize looked ready to sleep now, exhausted in so many respects. Dannox petted his red hair gently, like a good dog.

"I'm too dejected to even hit you for that."

"I know, it's why I'm taking advantage." answered Dannox, and he smiled even bigger. Handsome glasses still on. Now, they made Dannox seem softer than ever, blameless for his crude antics, and sympathetic. Blaize sneered and wanted to snatch the damned things back off.

Then, "...Why did I order this?"

"I'll finish your steak, Dannox, don't worry."

Or, perhaps they were just getting old together.

And so, because they did eventually realize that they knew better, the conversation returned to respectable assessments of Blaize's troubles. He complained that there wasn't a lawyer in Silvermoon who was willing to defend the murderess of the past King of Silvermoon, to the present King Kael'thas' face. Kael'thas being, even if cleared by Thrall, the perpetrator of so many terrible crimes in Outland, suspected of conspiring with the Burning Legion, powerful warlock enough to terrify his old rivals Prince Arthas and Lady Jaina Proudmoore into fleeing the realm, keeper of Lord Illidan's soul, and champion over Lady Vashj, etcetera... Blaize knew because he had already looked, and every barrister had a list of objections at least that long.

Dannox complained, in turn, that Blaize was going in the wrong direction entirely. If he was done with Celestia, then he should take his money and run, much further than Silvermoon and its up-and-coming Alliance District (Dannox insisted that was what he meant earlier, not that he was physically 'into' any new bank tellers).

"Go much further away from here," Dannox said. "Someplace exotic and fun where we can forget all about Celestia and our stifling marriages. Like Undermine. Alright so, I confess, I've been to Undermine before, I used to work there during my dark spell. Don't worry, I won't tell you exactly how I was forced to earn my money in those days. But the whole island of Kezan is lovely, actually. We'll just need some XR-57 DarkForge Boomsticks for the hordes upon hordes of savage tigers, and enough mosquito netting to camp outside..."

"...Huh?"

Dannox leaned in again, "I fought in the Emerald Dream once, right next to General Malfurion. I never told you-that preceded my dark spell. So, I'm not the lazy, mooching bum I seem. I'm just a man completely through with fighting on anything. You see, years ago, I was thrown out of the Feral Army for committing unspeakable acts. Forbidden from using my catform again, ever. Mandated by the high command that I take up healing instead as a result, yadda yadda you know how that jarhead mumbo jumbo goes... That's why I'm a tree these days. I've been waiting and waiting for the right moment to tell you. That's the real reason we two get along so well, General." He cheered, "Haha! In the trenches!"

Blaize began to groan.

"And, may I also say, Tyrande has a lot more problems than she realizes, if she's run off to get Malfurion back." Dannox whistled low, "Talk about don't ask, don't tell-I swear, I got punished because he just wanted to cover it up, what special fang-thang we tomcats had back then... If you've never given another man a rough-tongue bath all over his body, on a hot jungle night in the middle of a moon-fire siege, Blaize, you've never lived-"

"Oh gods, stoppit! Dannox, I am not running away with you to Kezan."

"But you just said...?"

Blaize had become so angry, he began mumbling his speech through clenched teeth. "We did this once already, at that dress shop we smashed up, fighting. And then, the second time after Cantrips, you promised me you wouldn't do it again-"

"But I'm a flirt, you already know that. I can't help it. Aren't you my friend? Doesn't that mean you have to love me the way I am, Blaize, with all that you've got?"

"ARRGH! I'm sticking around, right here in Silvermoon, to see how things turn out with Celestia, alright? I'm either going to stay someplace that doesn't remind me of her, and gather my courage so that I can visit that dungeon and tell her, to her face, that we're finally done because of her painful lies... Or, I am going to see this thing through so we two can talk things over, if there's even a chance? It depends... I don't know what to think or feel, it's too soon, Dan."

Dannox took a big, deep breath, and smoothed dark pearl hands back over his ivy hair. Then, he began to tap a foot rapidly under the table. "Yes, and... that's the same thing I was thinking, my General. About the timing... and your feelings. I do care about you, as a friend. This isn't about love or anything. Pshht. No, no, no. When a person is so... lonely, wounded and really, really horny over a break up, that is exactly the best time to go after them and try to convince them to experiment. Hear me out now, let me finish. If you've ever wondered for a long time about the sweaty, very physical part of having sex with another good-looking man who has... everything firm and where it's supposed to be, no matter what life throws at him, I mean bam! Like, everywhere it's supposed to be, no matter how much older than you he might be, or how big and famous, or how married to an angry Sunstrider he is, like his body never gives out or anything, really good with a sword, heroic and all that... I'm not offering anything emotional, now. I'm not making any promises, as I said. Just lots of guiltless, athletic sex over and over again with the General. Your general and my general together, or in as many positions as you, my friend, would like to have. We can even do it here in Silvermoon, you know, without the hot jungle or the tigers. While you're making up your mind about the marriage thing. Or, after breakfast, as soon or as later-today-as you want. I'm not gonna' tell anyone or anything, you know, Blaize. I have your back. Like, completely behind you. Even, heheh. Yeah, cause it's a great behind, you know. I've noticed... you sort of have dimples... but whatever, I'm not looking. It's not like I've been looking and planning. You are special to me. You will always be so special to me Blaize, and I don't want to hurt the friendship. All I want is you-I mean, for you to know-and it's not even a thing. It's so simple. I am here for you as a friend. Or not. Or more than friends. I buy you meals sometimes-okay, so a lot of the time, and then we hang out, share cigars together and it's real cool... You're my boy, you know. You wanted my house too, and I even gave you my HOUSE. And I dropped these charges, after Vashj and Novia kidnapped by daughter. It's all good though, I know you're worth it. And the wait has been so worth it. It's fine. I'm completely fine. Filthy and Rach are incredibly mad at me, still, and it's been a while, a lonely while, for me because they hate me and won't go near me and I don't know what's going to happen to my marriage because I helped you, but I'm just saying, whatever, you know. Whatever. I'm not hurt. I'm not expecting anything else. It's a good time for you to pay me back. That's all I'm saying. We were in Dalaran together for years, you know, for many years, and I've been pretending to be your friend so I could get some, like, for as long as I can remember. I'm not in love with you or anything, who I love are my wife and my husband who I might lose, for being so crazy in the past, or maybe for being crazy right now and telling you all this... Look! Blaize. I just want your body, that's it. No, I didn't mean that. How could I not be friends with you Blaize, you're such a charming, heroic, really cut guy, from any angle, you know, smooth personality and all that, with nice... Not that I always meant for you to owe me something. Never that. That would be wrong, if I ever thought I could pressure you into having sex. I mean, the diary thing... that was totally a friend thing. That was about being buddies together, after waiting so long. Because I hoped, one day, that you'd be grateful. You'd see how chill I am about some stuff. Secrets and stuff, you know. The kinds of things marriage vows don't really need to be violated over? Just you and me and our special friendship. Cause she's in jail now. Celestia's big. Have you ever noticed? You know, girlfriend's kinda big-looking and strong. So, I like, I wouldn't... but she's been put away, practically forever. She can't hurt me now. And, now I've also got you, with me, alone, right here. Yeah. Um, I've always been there for you, man. It's like, I always imagined... You're a handsome father-figure to me or something. That's all I'm trying to say. I wouldn't go, you know, and go telling people, if we got down. To it. Ever since you solved that mystery and nobody in my house will sleep with me anymore because of how I knocked up Novia, and now I see how needy you happen to be too, at the same time... and that you might also, platonically, need a good, strong... you know, a friend? That's all I'm saying. After all this time, spending so much money and being so nice to you, I can do that. I can handle it. I am just completely, absolutely, all over that. What? Who? You. Haha. That's what I'm talkin' about. Bam. You know? It's only you and your feelings I've ever been thinking of. Seriously. Friends. With benefits. Or, obligations, whatever. You know the song. Night Elves and Blood Elves... you and me, perfect harmony. I am all over that. Always have been. Sunwell's fixed, it's a brand new day and all... Just puttin' it out there." And then, Dannox exhaled, and his compulsive tapping foot stopped.

Blaize slowly crumpled up the newspaper, then yelled and lashed across the table, completely upsetting it, crashing everything, in order to get to Dannox and finally beat up Dannox. For, the perverted druid had never before been so grossly insensitive or destructively ridiculous than in this longest, most painful moment of their friendship.

Another wonderful, manly fight, at another spectacular downtown locale. The likes of which Celestia Blaize-Sunstrider might have been glad to take note of in her golden book, if it hadn't already been seized by King Kael'thas himself as evidence for regicide, in the first degree.

_Not long after, in the King's Offices..._

Kael'thas was slumped in his desk-chair, thinking. When he heard a knock on the door, he tapped arched fingers together before a hateful guise and said, "Sorn, for once in my life, I do want you to come in here and talk some sense to me. I don't know what to do with Celestia... the more I think about what she did to my father, the more I remember how we all lived together... she feels like my mother. I don't mean for her to, but she is my step-mother. So then, I'm going to kill my own mother as punishment for the death of my father? For so many years, I felt guilty and responsible for it, myself. I can't add this. How am I supposed to get justice and safeguard my family, but still add this?"

"Excellent, excellent. I love this train of thought, my royal mana pot. Now, how's your bedroom situation? If that's a mess too, then you're in the perfect, heartbroken wounded position for me to go after you and get you to experiment with all sorts of forgiveness."

Kael'thas leaned over his desk and really did begin to cry. "Sorn... is retired. Why are you here, Faltheriel? And are my guards dead or frozen or incapacitated or something? Is that why you weren't announced?"

"Oh, they aren't so bad off, don't be freaky with me. Well, not yet. They're just banished to the Nether. You know the place, where succubae go whenever they're de-summoned."

"I don't have any patience, anything at all left for you. Say what you need to say and then get right back out. Or, I will kill you Faltheriel, and to hell with whatever consequences the United Elven Social Club and its scheming, landed gentry might have for me."

"Oh! I'm their Vice President-well, Celestia's been imprisoned and according to many other club codes, technically she's been fully disqualified, which makes me the President. But, we'll get to certain people being afraid to unanimously vote me in and all that I intend to do to them, to fix that, later on. K-ster?"

"Why? Oh, gods, why?"

"Yes, I know. Impressive, isn't it? I know of all your mistresses over the years and their little nicknames for you. It's part of my three-part plan, that you accept 'royal mana pot' as a fun pet-name one day when we're closer friends..."

"I don't hear anything but the sizzling, crispy death of a certain ex-Legion Ranger. What's your nannying point, Faltheriel? After learning my own step-mother killed my father, never Arthas, haven't I been through enough?"

"No, actually, you haven't." Faltheriel had a seat and crossed an ankle over his knee. Well shined shoes, with spats were revealed, coming from a finely tailored pants leg. "You now need to endure the pain of forgiving your mother."

"Faltheriel, welcome to burnt." Kael'thas threw an arm forward, then ignited sparks of air to pop and blaze wild as a fire-work, directly in Faltheriel's face.

"Ahem, as I was saying..." Faltheriel began again afterwards. Now, he was speaking from behind a creepy dark green helmet with no eye or nose holes. Kael'thas paled when he realized he remembered it. The rest of Faltheriel's nice suit was wilted away by smouldering flame, but the same green armor was there, underneath. Kael'thas' biggest fanboy had come prepared. "By all accounts, except for the ones Anasterian himself once manufactured in your birth mother's section of the Royal Library, your father was a grade A psychotic and a derelict womanizer, like a wolf set loose upon lambs. Anasterian himself was aware of this, that is why he was crazy enough to come back from the dead and arrange a party just to accuse my friend Celestia. Celestia knew Anasterian was crazy too, that is why she killed him with her diary-which, by the way, implies that she did it in frantic haste, when she's a deathly effective frost mage, and any other manner of sharp implements might have been better, if those were at hand, which may also mean she was sneaked up on by your father..."

"Some frantic haste is not the same as self defense, Faltheriel. An excuse which matters even less to me when it was my father killed, my father. There can be no good reason to have taken that man away from me, ever."

"Really? None at all? But your forgiveness could heal so many. What about General Blaize?"

"What about him?"

"Blaize loves your step-mother. And let's face it, Celestia's a molten bitch. He may be the only man in existence who truly can love her. Blaize is crushed right now, having her away from him."

"What does that have to do with anything? I like Blaize a lot less than I like Celestia."

"General Blaize is also the father of Sunthraze... well, his last name is also Sunthraze. Young Lord Sunthraze Sunthraze. What about that Bloodknight? Aren't you two friends?"

"Who is to say that Sunthraze even likes that Blaize is his father? Faltheriel, I don't see where you are going with this."

Faltheriel flustered, "I-well... don't you care about anyone besides yourself here being hurt at all? I'm running out of connections... What about Saturna? She's still friends with Blaize, and they used to be married."

"Nope. Celestia and Blaize once usurped the throne together and endangered Saturna's chance to be Queen. She's fine with it."

"Well, pfft! I don't know, what about Lady Liadrin? And, Sorn? They both were young together, with Celestia. They knew how Anasterian hurt her and how unfairly she was treated at Court-"

"I thought you were at the party. Liadrin is the one who arrested Celestia, and Sorn was glad to help assess the diary as evidence, when it was presented. If I can't burn you to ash, Faltheriel, then at the least, admit you're wasting my time."

"Grr... Aaargh! Look, you... handsome thing! My husband Dannox is now actively trying to seduce Blaize because he's not taken by that frightening step-mother of yours... you get Celestia out of that prison right this minute!"

"HA!" But Kael'thas wasn't amused or enjoying himself in the least. He relaxed again, in his chair. "Anything else I can refuse to help you with, today? This is actually kind of fun."

Faltheriel seethed. He cramped each of his fingers, one by one, into fists.

"I did not want to do this to you, K-ster. I was hoping to save it until something better and more personal of yours became available to purchase and enjoy..."

"Please don't tell me anymore."

"But I will not lose my Dannox. He's a little horndog-okay, so more like a rabid horndog-but he's the only mortal being I've ever been with who likes to let me have my obsessions, he loves me for who I am and he trusts me. So, he can have his little toys too, but I've never seen him pursue anyone so ferociously as he does your General. Hrm. Though, it's less complicated now that I think about it. It might just be the whole General Malfurion, power-kick thing. Ew, and now I see how closely Dan resembles some other handsome druid I used to know, who'd lost his mind in a war and was forcibly stripped of his sweet, sweet mana..."

"Yeah, so right now, you really have gone and told me way too much."

"Sorry. Kael'thas, you might have trouble remembering it, but among my collections, I have plenty of evidence as to some criminal act you and I once did together. Do you remember? It was in a more romantically-lit chamber than this one, beneath Tempest Keep. And I had you in little, itty-bitty leopard-print underwears..."

"You wouldn't dare. Besides, back then... you tricked me?"

"I was only able to trick you into that outfit and into that cage, Kael'thas, because you believed I was the real Kil'jaeden, offering you a place to serve in the Burning Legion."

Kael'thas shot up from his desk. Faltheriel crossed one leg completely over the other. "Isn't it wonderful, the power that little golden book has? None of us remembered a thing about Tempest Keep, except that you went there with Saturna and little Prince Chao'thas, after that fight you had at the Black Temple, with Illidan. But, suddenly, the Sunwell is healed, then the book is read aloud, in public, and we're all starting to remember things. It was really you and Belorim and a ghost-Saturna at Tempest Keep, wasn't it?"

"You don't get it, Faltheriel. It doesn't matter what might have occurred in some alternate reality... this whole thing is a mad story to even try following. Vashj might have tampered with time itself, but in this present-day version of things, I chose Saturna and our love, over Illidan's power. I chose to save my son Chao'thas from Illidan's wrath. I didn't go sulking off to Tempest to have sex with my succubus for three pathetic years and then go running to Kil'jaeden when he offered me better than the life of some whimpering, self-loathing nerdboy!"

Faltheriel laughed at all Kael'thas had confessed. He pointed a finger playfully, then folded them together across his lap. "You see, that is always why I start sharing nasty little details first. It gets the juices flowing, and suddenly, everybody wants to get naked. Well, emotionally, I mean. I just got you to take all your clothes off, Kael'thas. So then, you do remember what I'm talking about. And also, the past, or another version of it, is just as relevant now. It is based in what we really think and feel no matter what, it implicates us in something bigger... Yes, you once took Legion blueprints and created a Void Reaver. Yes, you accepted bribes in the form of strategic benefit wherever you backed off from a Legion camp in Outland, and we pulled our forces away from your forts... I know, because I was there, Kael'thas. I was the one calling the shots. I have so many well organized storage spaces all over two worlds with knick-nacks and memorables of our delightful conversations and conspirings together all tagged and alphabetized, by date. There is a great deal of evidence that you had turned to the Legion-in every version of this story-and were, in fact, serving them for a time. Even before I got involved. Do you really want me to take that to Thrall, or Velen, perhaps, and convince the world to re-open this trial with you and Illidan Stormrage, regarding Crimes Against Mortals? And frankly, I'm just shocked you don't prefer the version of the story where you never slept with Lady Vashj."

Kael'thas pulled his hair. "But then, you would be implicated as well."

"I turned on my employers in Outland and took them out. I ended the last vestiges of the Legion's corporate triangular torture scheme across two worlds. The Shat Post already published an apology, for saying I was ever a villain. My wife Rachel made that happen. She's very good. Fine, maybe I'll go on trial, but maybe an entire Kael'thas fandom will also start to sympathize with me, most of all, when Rachel is done writing about my heroics-especially, if she wants to save our husband Dannox. It happened once. It can happen again. That is how much I love my Dannox and my wife and this life we three share together. Unlike yourself, I understand the first time around, how precious family is once one has found it. I won't jeopardize that."

More of the air popped and sparked. Kael'thas ground his teeth. "Do you know what, Faltheriel? I've always hated you, starting out at conscription when you were a private in the Sunfury Army. I could always tell that you would be trouble, you wacky fruit, right from the start. And now, you've become so power-hungry and flaming out of your love-triangle-mind that you're making it hard for other villain characters, especially the gay villains, to ever be taken seriously."

There was a rightful reaction to that. "Excuse me... but first of all, I'm bi. Second of all, Kael'thas... you're mean."

Kael'thas covered his face, ashamed of his grief, what it was doing to him and everyone else. "I'm so sorry."

Faltheriel took his helmet off and smoothed fingers into his white-blonde hair to set it down right. "I mean, that was just cruel. We were doing so well, for this entire series, and you had to go and say that."

"I know, I have no idea what came over me."

"I am a good person deep down, Kael'thas-"

"Yes, I realize."

"I mean, I really have done some twisted, sadistic things, even with folks I once imagined to be my family members, but I never took a shot at anyone's sexuality. I mean like... I am thinking back right as we speak," Faltheriel rolled tearful eyes up to the ceiling as he pondered. Kael'thas kept reassuring that he felt awful, "... and I can't even think of one time I even went there. I never did that to you. I mean, do I ever call you a 'dirty hetero?' Do you even understand what it means to be bisexual, Kael'thas? Do you need me to explain this to you? Because words can hurt. They really can. And the moment we start judging one another based on sexuality, or race, or anything else, that is the moment at which the fabric of our noble society begins to break right back down. We'll be left with... well, with something like what Arthas left us with, you know?"

Kael'thas wiped at his eyes too. "Yes, I know. I meant that I hate you so much, in general, for all the things that make you special. I don't discriminate against you, I just hate you, the whole you. Ugh, I'm so frustrated! Why are you so wrong in every conceivable way, but so right about this, Faltheriel? Gods, I loathe talking you."

Faltheriel sniffled and then handed Kael'thas a second handkerchief. Kael'thas was alright with the odd show of tenderness between them until he realized it was one of his own handkerchiefs, monogrammed by the royal tailors about twelve years ago when he was a teenager going off to the University of Dalaran. Faltheriel didn't know enough to apologize. "I have your entire 'Dalaran College Kael'thas (tm)' bedroom set. I went through so many auction houses but I finally got everything, down to the soiled drawers from when you and Jaina first-"

"Alright, that's enough. Get out. I've heard what you had to say, I'll think about it."

"But," Faltheriel sniffled, "I threatened to ruin your life, if you don't forgive your mother. You're only going to-think-about my offer?"

Kael'thas was adamant. "Celestia killed my father. It could never be that easy. What are you crying about, now?"

"Well, I can't leave yet anyways, because I'm also here to apply for the Chief Advisor position."

"You sick-I would NEVER HIRE YOU TO MIND MY DAY-TO-DAY..."

"Are you discriminating against me, based on sex or sexuality, again? Or, disability, when I clearly have chronic mental issues? Huh, Kael'thas?"

Faltheriel then handed Kael'thas his impressive resume and cover letter-how could an ex- Burning Legion Ranger not have one-and reassured that he had tons of experience in the field of dealing with underhanded things like the fel-magic Kael'thas had long been addicted to (and probably still was, but they don't do royal drug tests, you see), Faltheriel was great with multi-tasking minions and spouses should he ever have trouble with Ruthsalia, and was certainly very excited about the position. "It's the other reason I came in here, you know. Oh! And my three-step plan, I never explained... Number One: complete submission of the masses. Number Two: complete exploitation of the masses, and Number Three: We cover everything with patriotic nicknames to make it seem worthwhile. You know, 'obliteration of our enemies' becomes 'the war on magic-abuse' and such, and then the whole 'royal mana pot' becomes our little special thing somewhere down the line, for when you're really happy with me for doing a great job destroying dissidents." he beamed, and did, unfortunately, look very hopeful and sunshiney-cute 'hire-me-now' doing it.

"What the hell, Faltheriel." Kael'thas complained, back in his dejected deadpan. "Who are you even using as a reference?"

"Kil'jaeden himself. If, you don't reconsider my offer. Oh, and Saturna. She supervised me back in the Fangirl Scouts. But that's not too long ago, is it? I guess the Immediate-Past-President Celestia would also do, if you need more recent."

"Get out, get out, GET OUT!"

_Later, that evening..._

So, then, Kael'thas' mood was at least a bit transformed, by dinnertime. Both his sons, from Outland and Azeroth, had been invited to the Sunspire.

"I haven't been well, since returning from Nazjatar, as you know. I'm glad both of you came. Belorim, Chao'thas..."

Chao'thas rolled his eyes. "We thought maybe you were dying."

"Hey, don't look at me, I don't want my birthright."

"Oh my gods! I don't either-" Chao'thas brightened. "Samesies, totally!" And reached across the table to slap a firm handshake with his elder-but-really-if-not-for-the-rift-in-time-younger-brother.

Saturna shifted in her chair and felt her large belly. "Kael'thas, we need to eat."

"Go on then, Starshine. I need to finish this speech whether my ungrateful sons want it or not." He turned and brought a box from the cabinet, then set it at the center of the table. "I was ill because I realized, immediately after the Sunwell was restored, how close I came to destroying my own life, with hate. How near I was, to enduring a life's long lesson with an old... friend of mine, all for nothing. At the Black Temple, and then Tempest Keep, and later, in Darnassus, where the world forgave us... I can't say anymore. One of you, open it."

Chao'thas poked the ornate box with one of his clawed weapons. Belorim was even more uncomfortable about being in the castle of his estranged father, when he watched Chao'thas use a Demon-killing weapon so casually. He reached behind his ears, in a curious fashion, and scratched at the base of his horns.

And that is what also lay inside the velvet cushion of the box. Two massive, coiled Demon horns.

"Those are Illidan's." Belorim said.

"Yes, they had become a manifested store of his powers. It took thousands of years for so much of the Venom to coalesce, outside of himself, in that way. I ended up with my own said, that I've also cut off, before I realized how doubly useful a Demon's horns are. Even if his strength or power is spent, a Demon will always have a latent source of strength in his fel-horns."

Saturna sniffed a little. She wasn't new to this idea, when she saw him undressed, and with the transforming magic off. Clearly, sharing a bedroom with Kael'thas had more than one advantage.

"I want each of you to take one."

"But why? It's kind of gross to have one of my own father's horns." Belorim wondered.

"When I finally confronted Illidan, for betraying me with Vashj, again, after al these years, I came close to killing him. But, instead, I wondered one last helpless time, 'What if I show mercy?' And then I saw the reflection of my own horns against the sun, through the magic I used to cover it. I realized how similar we were. It took me many, many times before so much of that vileness was finally beat out of me. What was one more chance? Especially, with Vashj gone... Illidan said that he voluntarily quit her. I once voluntarily quit him. It takes a great deal of effort, to get just there... Because I dared have a little belief in my friend, I was able to see it, before the sword came down. And it was a good thing, too. In order to cure both of us, since we are from the same strain of venom-demon, Thrall needs both of us, alive, to finish his serum. I almost destroyed myself, through hating Illidan so much. That really unsettled me. Thank the Light and all that strives, that I only cut his horns off, instead. Whenever either of you feels ready to give up on life-okay, so, really on your father or your terrible Sunstrider or Stormrage ancestry-I want you to take a horn in hand and... Chao'thas, stop snickering."

"Sorry. It's just that you're being so dramatic. But we all knew you'd become a good guy, Kael'thas?"

Kael'thas blinked at his son Chao'thas for a long time. He did really look like a younger version of himself. "Are you on my drugs again?"

"Haha! No, I'm serious. You've made a lot of good decisions, lately. Do you see me running off to Outland, or scheming to join-wait, make-another cult? No. I'm here, hangin' out... with my dad. I'm proud of you."

Belorim finally placed fingers along the black curve of Illidan's segmented horn. "You cut this very close. You almost did take my father's head off. Thank you... for not doing it. I'm proud of you too, I guess."

"Illidan is a prophet." Kael'thas sat down, and beckoned them to eat. "People tend to want to run out and murder prophets."

After eating quietly for a while, Saturna asked, "Is that maybe what the problem was? Did Illidan prophesy something about me, while at the Black Temple? Is that why I felt afraid of him for so long?"

Belorim set down his fork. Chao'thas chose that time to take a drink of water. Kael'thas smoothed hair up out of his face, unsure of how many more times he could stand lying to the woman he loved and sacrificed everything for. What if Thrall and Belorim were correct back in Ashenvale, and it was Saturna's right to know? That her husband had taken it upon himself to Imprison her rapist and murderer, once a lifetime ago... that Demon-man was still Kael'thas personal slave.

Kael'thas felt himself fading again. Perhaps he was getting to old, his will too weak, to continue the facade. If Belorim would do it... by fate, some good force have the rightful child of that tragedy do it!

Belorim looked at his mother. "It was... a prophecy, as you said. A very disturbing one Lady Vashj tried to prevent. It would be a cruel story, for any of us to tell it to you again, mother. You almost... my wife is a Far Seer. She says that you almost lost me, because of what Illidan forced you to see at the Black Temple. Please respect our wishes, when we love you, and don't have us speak it again."

Saturna was on the verge of tears. She did not want to let it go. Then, she made a fist, looked to Chao'thas, and then Kael'thas. When she again faced the flickering candles at the center of the table, her expression was calm. "I accept that you all are trying to protect me. I'm relieved that I'm not so grown up that people don't care to anymore... thank you. You all know how much I want this baby. I really need to start over, there's been so much drama in Dalaran with Celestia and Blaize-Oooh!"

"Why are you saying Blaize's name like that?" For Kael'thas, some habits died hard.

"Ooooooh?" Saturna began breathing rapidly. "It's not that, I... Nathaniel Blaize and I are-Oooooh! Ow! Oh no..."

"It's the baby coming. Stupid." Chao'thas sniped, then grinned at his father. Instantly, the three men went into action, calling for help, and whispering to the woman they all loved as a mother, a wife, a best friend, that it would all be okay now.

"She's coming! Ooooh!"

Kael'thas cringed. Vashj did have her way of making an exeunt, didn't she? Until the bitter end. "It's a girl..."


	27. Finally, a good queen

**MLFMP**- a story of fangirl delusion, Bloodknight zealotry and heartfelt recovery.

**Fall of Quel'thalas**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Finally, a Good Queen.**

On the day Princess Anthene Arcanelia Sunstrider was born, the sun carefully tucked herself into thick, white cloud, and then it rained gently. She knew there was one who had come before. And, no matter what, before things began again, there would be a proper observance for the sadness of having lost the first Anthene'alas. An endurance would have to be built, in order for times to truly get better. The baby in her cradle softened cries and gasped mouth at beads of rain silvering down the window nearby. Kael'thas worried that his daughter looked to be breathing like a fish. Saturna smacked his arm and corrected that little Anthene was pensive.

"I cheated and paid a soothsayer to tell me whether it was a boy or girl. You aren't angry, are you Kael'thas? I couldn't even know whether it would be a good telling or not, until she was born."

"I don't think I'll be able to get so angry with prophets ever again. Saturna, she's beautiful."

How is it that mothers always know? How is it that fathers aren't ever wrong, no matter what mothers say? Kael'thas knew, no matter his littlest's true parentage, the part of her that was going to be a Sunstrider would certainly grow up to be very odd. For her to bring a day like this... The early rain was sad, but beautiful. It made Kael'thas smile, though he was still hurting and did not mean to.

Unprecedented things were bound to happen.

_At the Sunthraze Estate..._

Blaize had sent for a carriage. Not that he was done packing. He just realized, with some certain instinct, that he needed to be out of that house. It wasn't right. It wasn't his home, anymore. It was an empty place with an obnoxious young couple living downstairs. Once upon a time, he might have taken the sound of their constant lovemaking or their arguments-which were somehow sweeter, when he and Celestia always used to argue-in stride. But today, it was impossible for Blaize to continue on, knowing that he had a man made of himself downstairs, an actual son, who was happy and doing it right. And, this was more Sunthraze's house than his own. Blaize felt a guilt he did not think himself capable of. However many years ago-he wasn't even sure how old Sunthraze was-he had an affair with the lady of this house and that carelessness damned both of them. Sunthraze's mother was shamed by King Anasterian once upon a lifetime ago, thrown out of court, and eventually returned to a husband destroyed by the betrayal. Sunthraze made sharp comment here and there, about despising his mother, and that she had become a drunk.

As for Blaize, it took him many life times, but today and finally, the thought of anyone coming up as an orphan, or with so many questions about true love and parentage as he once did-and Blaize being the cause, himself, of all that, it drowned him. At first, he thought it was his imagination. His dreams were taking full advantage of the rain and his wallowing conscience for either not being able to save his own son and then Celestia, or for having been so cruel in his life to have fallen prey to Celestia so many years ago.

He would never love again. He would never be free enough, or useful enough. These wounds were so terrible, they never stopped bleeding. What was the point?

And worse, Blaize sensed that he could not survive facing Kael'thas-and high society life in Silvermoon demanded that be done eventually, at royal ceremony, or in eventual confrontation. Kael'thas had already taken Saturna-even if Blaize didn't want her now, the hurt of it was still with him-now he had taken Celestia too. No! Celestia had taken herself away! Or, had she? What if Kael'thas took one of his wives and then killed the other one? And then, the diary wrote that, once upon a time, Saturna had died because of Kael'thas and become a haunted shell of herself. Blaize was starting to remember it...

Blaize decided that he wouldn't go to Kezan or do anything, really, that Dannox had suggested. But, for some stranger reason he hated to think of (when it implied they were still friends), Blaize was willing to at least consider taking Dannox's chief advice, of stealing a good share of Celeste's money to match his own and then get away from Silvermoon. Blaize had also resolved to send word to Dannox once he was settled, wherever he might go.

Dannox was still his friend. A friend with money. A friend who cared? No, a friend with money. Blaize needed to let Dannox know how he was doing wherever he went. Because he cared how Dannox might be doing, with the man's marriage falling apart too, just for his sake? And after all they suffered together? No, because Dannox had money. Dannox could mend his finances, as Blaize traveled. That had to be his reasoning.

And, Dannox was the one person Blaize could trust not to be hard on him. Dannox wasn't hard on any living creature, ever, except for maybe his lovers-Blaize suspected. Argh! Why did that pervert's way of thinking overcome his wondering, even now? Plan. Take a sword and a gun. Good, now for a change of clothes. Something to eat that will last... no, leave that. Going downstairs now and seeing Sunthraze or Tempest enjoying breakfast in his kitchen, in his house, his life... Those two Bloodknights possessed all that Blaize knew he should have, with someone he deeply loved and fought for, for the first time in his life.

With Saturna, Blaize had got arrogant, stubborn and obnoxious. With Celestia, yes, for Celestia, Blaize had fought. Hard. And not just with his hands. With the part of himself a soldier was never meant to question. But that was over.

He was standing in front of his Sunfury standard-issue satchel. He didn't have everything. Blaize had to lean over the bed, her antique bed that she'd picked out, and take a breath. This was not running away. Celestia was sentenced going to die, and whatever he needed from her, he couldn't do anything for her. So, this was moving on.

Some idiotic person knocked on his bedroom door then. Blaize didn't say anything. He rubbed his nose on one shirt sleeve and then made himself cross the room to grab something else. It didn't matter what. His footsteps should have deterred the intruder, but they knocked again instead.

"Oh, Mister General-man. We made you breakfast."

Blaize paced now, desperate to think or do anything else.

"Helloooo?" it was Tempest.

Oh, he'd wanted to sleep with her once, and badly. That memory distracted Blaize a little, but then grief overcame it. Celestia had been his best...

"I'm not hungry, I'm not anything. Go away."

"Don't worry, Mister General man. I'm not coming in if you're upset, because the last time I did that, I ended up sleeping with Kael'thas and that was really, really bad for my... everything. But even if you're a big angry dick usually, you should still have something to eat."

Blaize found his mind going blank again. Oh, yes, that was Tempest's greatest skill. Distraction.

"Isn't my carriage downstairs yet?"

"Huh?"

Another worthless woman, waste of his time.

"Why don't you go back to stealing something of mine, you harpy!"

Then, she left. But not before making a loud kissing noise and then slapping herself-Blaize assumed it was her pretty butt she wanted him to kiss off.

He went to folding clothes. "Great, consider sleeping with your own son's wife before abandoning Silvermoon. Good strategy. I'm pathetic. No... I am more than capable. Just exhausted with saving myself for someone who isn't here. Who doesn't exist. First damned thing I'm doing where I get wherever I'm going... is to have a drink, then shag some bar-maid simple."

Blaize realized he was packing a pillow into his bag and then threw it back out again.

"Hey Daddy. Mind if I smoke your cigars?" came another voice through the door.

Was he serious? "Sunthraze, if I haven't killed you yet then I'm never going to. Have at it."

Sunthraze came directly into the room. Clearly the cigar had been going for a while already. "Holy hawkstriders! I knew you were pissed off, but not this torn up... you're leaving? You gonna have Tempest and I kicked out, or this house burned up for the insurance money while you're on vacation, aren't you?"

"I'm not going on vacation."

Why did it feel like he was going to tell his son that he was leaving the family? When Sunthraze was grown and shouldn't care one way or another? Blaize couldn't believe he cared so much.

Sunthraze scrunched up his face and stalked about the room. Supposedly, he was trying to get near his father, but Blaize kept moving to pack one thing and another, to prevent contact.

"You really have some wild facial expressions." Blaize remarked, "You didn't get those from me."

"The answer is... false. Next question."

"What foolishness are you going on about?"

"Come on, what else do you want to know about me? You think I have my mother's personality, but I don't. I'm actually about as animated as you are, when you let yourself have fun and laugh. But you rarely do, Nate." Sunthraze really struck his teeth on that last bit, the 'T' sound, as if mocking Blaize's first name, "For all we went through together in the army, you're, surprisingly, more my father than she ever was motherly. Let's settle that up correct, before you run away."

Blaize shrugged, while folding a shirt. "I don't know... So I'll play along... what's with your stupid girlfriend?"

"Bam!"

"...WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?"

"That's the sound of a gong, when someone gives a wrong answer... What's gotten into you? Tempest is my wife. We got married in Undermine. Kezan is quite lovely this time of year. Just need your mosquito netting and a barrage of moonfire spells..."

"Alright, you've been talking to Dannox. Is he still black and blue, the way I left him?"

"Hey, that man was sweating and still stuttering when he was here. Tempest and I had to threaten him out of coming up the stairs to see you. I can completely see how you ended up defending your own honor to him, though, in a crowded cafe of many tens' of pairs of eyes..."

"Well, so what. My friends are terrible, like yours, that's no surprise."

Blaize felt a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know what I am to you, or if you'd ever believe that I'm interested in getting to know you better... One might assume that I haven't schemed you out of this house already to be the biggest proof of it, but whatever... Dannox is, in fact, a friend. And, he is very worried about you. My point is, you might think you haven't got a soul by you this morning, but Dannox did come by the house to say he cared."

"It's nothing. A man just needs to... roam. There, your first fatherly lesson."

Sunthraze squeezed harder, really meaning it, then let go. "I can't say that I'll miss you, Daddy. We never got that kind of time."

"That's just as well." Blaize didn't know what else to say. When he turned around with something better, Sunthraze had gone.

Blaize's eyes passed over the mirror, as he returned to his bag a final time. Woah, he had let himself go since Celestia left. But this time, Sunthraze chose not to say anything about his weight?

That meant something. It shouldn't have. And, really, it truly should not have, for as petty as the 'fat joke' had always been. But this time, it made Blaize feel precariously loved.

It rained harder. Blaize cinched the top of the duffel bag shut, then tied a knot in the binds, army-style. One last sweep of the bedroom.

Downstairs, Tempest, wearing hardly more than a bathrobe, handed him another satchel filled with food.

"Thank you, my lady. Kind of you."

"Oh! Did you hear, Sunthraze? Your father called me a lady, so you can so start doing it!"

Then, she stopped laughing, grabbed Blaize by the arm and hugged him. He didn't realize how much he needed it. "Don't be stupid." she whispered against his ear, next.

"Excuse me?"

"It's so obvious that Sunthraze and I have such serious issues, for what our parents didn't give us. If you stayed you could rule over this whole place. We kind of liked how gentlemanly you could be, Blaize. We were maybe hoping to learn a thing or two."

"Learn? From me?"

Tempest held him away for a moment, smoothed hair out of his face.

"Ew, incest, much?" went Sunthraze, poking his head out of the sitting room. They were standing in the grand hallway. Tempest stuck her tongue out at her husband.

"Blaize... it's weird now. Like the end of an era. We weren't always on the same side but... we really were on the same side, you know?"

"Oh. Of the war against the Legion, do you mean?"

"Yeah, that. Ha! Maybe we Bloodknights are incompetent, for me to mess up the name of it. Excuse me, a bunch of us stopped our weekly 'treatments' with Magnus the Unmaker. But look, we were all on the same side with Kael'thas, too. Well, until you stole his kingdom. But before that-"

"Nevermind it. You both understand now, this is all I wanted. A nice family and a home... I meant to say, 'nice house.'"

Tempest whined and hugged him again. "To be honest, your carriage got here like an hour ago, but we didn't say anything. And Sunthraze made me promise not to seduce anybody else on purpose or by accident, so this is as much as I can do for you. Please? We can't replace Celestia... but I want my hubby to get a chance, to know you. This whole time, he was looking for you and you're just going to leave?"

"Don't get so worked up. I assume the house will go to both of you anyways."

It didn't make them any happier. Blaize regretted saying it. He chanced a real embrace with his son at the open doorway, then headed out. Tempest and Sunthraze stood out beyond the awning, watching in the rain, while Blaize stepped into the carriage.

"Driver, take me to..."

"Falconwing Square, it is."

The carriage started.

"But I didn't say...?"

"We don't want to miss the celebration, I wouldn't dare let you, I've been told. I thought you'd heard? Princess Anthene Arcanelia Sunstrider was born today. It's been declared a holiday in the kingdom. Everyone of importance is goin', Sir."

Blaize grumbled, "She _would _be born today of all days... You take orders from me, driver. I want to get the hell away from Quel'thalas. Go by way of Tranquillien..." No, then the Darkweavers might see. North, and he'd run into friends again, if there were any United Elven Alliance Socialites at the celebration. Dammit, friends on every side!

It was a quick ride, they were halfway there.

"...I'm sorry, but I'm on orders of the Lady of the House."

That Tempestraven! And Sunthraze, too, playing games with him. "Sorry to see me go, my ass. Turn around, this instant!"

"Mi'Lord, I fear what will happen if I leave the Queen herself out in the rain, and by the prison entrance too. How sad and wrong. She only has but a week's end... I'll maybe be let go, or worse. I beg you."

Blaize held on, for his life. Celestia was coming home?

The carriage stopped near the castle gate. Blaize hated the look of so many red and gold streamers sailing through the air. And, gods, Kael'thas had conjured pink baby phoenixes...

The driver asked Blaize several times for guidance, once they arrived. But, Driver Tomas had to get down himself and go speak to the palace guard alone. It went quick, Blaize was amazed at it. The royal guard and their big red shields parted, then shouted orders for the gates to open. A row of shining gold bars raised, painfully slow. Then, a phalanx of armed men followed after poor Tomas, as he raced to get to the carriage door first. Blaize should have been able to see her by now. But there were so many soldiers. What scheme was this? How had they... how had she? Blaize quietly decided somebody very big and important must presently be laying dead in the prison ward-a gold book lodged in his jugular.

The door came open. A definite lady was helped into it. The whole carriage rocked.

"...Celeste?"

She threw off her hood and screamed for joy. The carriage rocked again, while Blaize held on, again. Then, they were moving back out of the city and its dulled celebration.

"You came to get me?"

"I... I don't know-How in the world did you...?"

"...Oh." Celestia kept checking him though. She was unable to look anywhere else.

Blaize was afraid to say more. Whatever the matter was, his wife did not look good. She was exhausted, dark around the eyes, hollow in the cheeks, trembling, miserable. Her merry plumpness persisted against him in the seat, however. They crested over a bump in the road, and Blaize flushed to be getting a rise out of feeling her press against him, through everything he hated about her and their long, annoying life together.

"Where shall we drop you then, Mi'Lord?"

"General, are you leaving?"

"I... The lady must go to the estate of course."

"It's only for the weekend, because of Kael'thas' declared holiday." Celestia began to explain.

"It's your own affair. Don't trouble me with the details. But you won't be alone. Tempest was strutting about in a nightie at this hour and Sunthraze was onto my cigars already... have fun with that."

"Oh, the kids. I didn't think I'd ever miss them." Celestia tightened the cloak beneath her chin and shivered. "...And you as well, you old hateful thing."

Blaize kept his eyes on the window. Which would have been fine, except that it also reflected Celestia's gaze upon him. The rain created mist in the air, which fogged the window, and made a better reflection of her sweet damsel's misery than ever before. As soon as they arrived at the house, too, the sun came out. Torture promptly ended. Well, fate was having a fine time with him, especially today, wasn't She?

The driver waited for Blaize to get the door for his wife, but for a second time, he refused. So, there was a moment where Tomas jumped down and rushed to do it.

"I didn't think you would ever really despise me." Celestia told Blaize while they were alone for that scant moment. "And if... you have to leave... Then I want you to know..." the door rushed open, with all this sunlight. Celestia threw herself at him, and the carriage popped portside-wheelies again. "You are the most wonderful, generous man I have ever known! What a perfect, arrogant ass... what will I ever do without your patient toughness or unrepentant guile, love? Back in there, in the dankest hours, it gave me hope. I said to myself, 'I musn't despair. I shall be as asinine and regal as Blaize, even here.'" And she kissed his cheek. Celestia held on around his neck, began to cry, but then forced herself to stop. "I've lost one before. Perhaps... before long I can have another. Oh! Right, I'll be going back to prison on Sunday... so then, there won't be another great love for me, will there? And even the prison warden's a woman. Hahaha!" her distressed laughter went on and on, until Driver Tomas let her into the house.

Not very long after, the door slammed shut when and Blaize was asked again, for what direction he would take, he said "Driver, I want to get as far from... hold the carriage." Then, "Celestiaaaaa! I am not through speaking to you!"

Their yelling went through the house, into every room. Sunthraze and Tempest cheered, but then Celestia bellowed for them to get out, and they scrambled to race outside, into the sunshine. Blaize wanted to know what possessed her, how dare she not tell him? How dare she create a situation where he was left alone, and miserable without her? How dare she create a situation where he was left wondering if he was better off without her? What was the meaning of their marriage, then? Seduction, lies, a cover for her crime?

"Excuse me, Sir!" Celestia cursed him, once in the bedroom. She was changing into better dress rapidly. "You are the one who always insisted we married for love. We did not. That was never the case. I wanted to be rescued and you wanted to rescue me. And then Kael'thas, blah blah blah... I'm sick of talking about this!"

Blaize slammed the door on her, penning them in.

"My closet is without this room, don't you close any doors on me. I WILL have access to my festival dresses."

"Your what? Are you seriously considering going back out there, and to whose house, I wonder? What place is more important?"

"There is a royal celebration going on," Celestia laughed as if it were obvious and it didn't pain her, "A new Princess is born, another generation of Sunstrider fated to be Queen of those stupid Princes can't get it together-and I doubt Belorim or Chao'thas ever will. That is who I am, Blaize. I am royalty. That is my only point, what I'm made of. I've got nothing else... This is my one chance to show you, that damned Kael'thas and everyone else I belong-I will be there in his royal face out from this house and my uncaring husband whether he likes it or not!"

Blaize grabbed her arms when she tried to fight him away from the door. "Did he release you, personally? You have no idea if you've been welcomed to freedom. If it's some mistake you've been let go, Celeste, then I won't have Kael'thas put you back in prison."

She only wanted to be let go, let loose.

"You'll just end up a damsel, in another tower, dwindling away... who will rescue you then? Not me, I've been through all that before and it's not a fun ride. Why did you do that to yourself, in the first place? Kael'thas had only banished you back then, but you gave up and chose to wait for some knight as hungry for the throne as you. You rathered imprison yourself and hide out in a fortress!"

She cried and sat on the bed. "It was my guilt, it was my shame! I tried, but I couldn't run away from it. And what man would love me proper and make a wife of me after... Oh, and I don't even have a diary to write in any longer. That was only ever my best comfort... damn you Kael'thas!"

"What about Anasterian? Or, were you just so lonesome because you were sad that you might get caught?"

"Don't talk to me about that evil, evil man. I loved him but he tortured me, you know that. I told you that, Blaize, about a thousand times, in so many ways. And, I trusted you. But when I was apprehended you didn't even call out to me. You just stood there, you just stared... why did you never read the damned page I showed you?"

"...Read?"

Celestia then explained that she had tried to tell him, using the diary, long before Anasterian's 'surprise party.'

Blaize sat on the floor.

"Oh, get up. You can't even share a bed with me now, if it means you won't bruise your old fat butt?"

"Well, you've lost the weight I gained. I really don't like it Celeste. How they must have treated you..."

A frightened look passed over her eyes. "It's always worse, when you're locked up without your accomplice. That dungeon's not improved, since we've both been in. Why are you scratching, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just feeling warm, is all."

"I suppose, it is a little warm in here. Why not open a window?"

Blaize did so. And, in the middle of doing so, he realized he liked doing for her. "Would you like water, as well?"

"Oh, I'm parched. Where are you going? Just call a servant to fetch it..."

Blaize left, and came back with water. His wife was already under the covers, sleeping.

"Oh, I was out. Thank you." she drank. "There you go, doing it again... what's going on with you, are you sick? Were you bitten by something?"

"Nevermind it."

"I just want to see it. What is it with men and being afraid to talk about their bodies? You're hurt-"

"I said no, because then you'd be going into my pants is, why. Woman! Just leave it alone."

"Lay down then, at least. You're worrying me."

He did so.

"Let me hold you, Blaize. You do look cold."

"Hot, then cold. We're both getting old." he mourned.

Celestia kissed him.

"What was that for?"

"Do you remember... oh, maybe you don't." she tried again anyways, "Well, many years ago, in autumn. On a day like today, there was a contest. A certain... King had the men of the Court line up and swing their swords, to see how well they could strike, and then later, how well they could shoot with a boomstick."

Blaize covered his eyes and grimaced. He did remember.

"You were the winner."

"Sadly, yes."

"Why is it a sad yes?"

"Because... I got too much attention. I was a nobody and an upstart. That's when people began to be suspicious of me and my affair with... well, that one's mother." Blaize meant Sunthraze, somewhere downstairs or outside the house.

"Well, for me it was a happy yes, because, that is when I noticed you. What a fine, young thing, with a great, taught ass..."

"You said it was getting old and fat, just now."

She purred at him. "It was absolutely necessary for me, to put you together with my friend instead, rather than be tempted to take you for myself. I thought I loved and needed my King. But what a handsome person you are."

"Are? Not were?"

Another kiss.

"You can't really be this attracted to me, Celeste. I'm a dried up old General."

"I'm a woman loosed from prison, and in love and so very sorry... there you are, still itching. Really, Nathaniel, this time I'm worried."

Blaize grumbled, reached down, worked, and finished by tossing his pants clear from the bed. He then glared at his wife.

"It's not itching, it's adjusting... things. I'm fighting my urge to be with you, because I am angry at you."

Celestia beamed and leaned on an elbow. Blaize caught her plump hand, when it tried to dive beneath the blanket. So, she spoke instead, "Interesting. I see we are about to haggle."

"I don't haggle with my body."

"Mmhmhm! Yes, you do, I've experienced it... How many times in Dalaran did you trick me, or give one side of yourself to me and not the other? Mmm! Or why not be furious and randy, I've seen that before too-do both for me, Nathaniel. Come back here, you. You bad, naughty thing. I'll fix you the same way I did all those other times, I promise. One passion is easier to fix right now than the other, Blaize, and you know it. Give yourself to me."

Blaize turned from her. Celestia lashed arms around him, kissing all over his face and neck. For a person in her situation, she was able to erupt in such bright giggles. Blaize feared for how she really was doing, or what she really did feel for her crime against Anasterian. The crazed woman was attempting to ravage him. "Please? Oh, please. I'd do anything, General. My handsome, precious husband-you're so silly Blaize, why are you trying to get away from me?"

He was able to smile, but then tried to hide it from her. Another sultry laugh, "Let me, Sir, get my hands all over you and that precious look. Then, we'll see what's what!"

"Dannox was right, you are frightening! You can't use me like this..." he threw off the sheets.

Celestia hastened after him, hugged arms around one leg, while Blaize pulled. "Mrrr... and I got you to take off your clothes. I can see all that I earned over the years by being such a terrible wife, and now being a hungry wife too makes me a monster, doesn't it? Get back here, my handsome, wonderful General. He who commanded all that great army, he who ravished so many silly, stupid little women. And now a real Queen wants him, bad, and he's frightened to death, ha!" she kissed up his calf muscle, which tensed further, and Blaize cringed. "So young and trusting. I fooled you completely, didn't I?"

"Into what? I'm terrified, now, to finally learn of it."

"Into loving me. Hahaha! Rwarrr..."

"But I do love you, you silly cougar. Besides, I'm not that young. I'm glad for your persistent fantasy, but I have been around the bend more than a few times. Celestia, I could tell your heart was always very invested, regardless of circumstances. That is what inspired me to try. It's never been a game between us. You're just freaking me out at the moment-"

"Really? You're not just saying that now because the tigress has been let out, are you? Damn, if only I was heavier, you'd be pinned and fixed by now."

"Yes, Celeste, I'm certain! I'm madly and painfully in love with you, so please, let go!"

She whined, then did. "Oh gods how embarrassing. Suddenly I get a sense of what Kael'thas must go through, with his stupid, slavering fangirl Queen."

Blaize stopped backing toward a possible escape through the open window. He thought of Saturna and laughed hard. "Sharp as ever... But I'm still angry, and so our sleeping together won't fix anything, Celeste."

"I'm furious with you too, for not trusting me, but I've been locked up forever it feels like... so the compromise in my heart and head is that it's bound to be damned fun. Get over here."

"Only, if you promise not to... well, hurt me. When you are motivated, you are a shockingly strong woman. And, I mean strong. I slip a little in muscle and now I'm panicking..."

He only managed to get so far. Celestia reached and tugged Blaize the rest of the way back to bed and finished undressing him.

"Now...?" a final, meaningful kiss from her.

"...Yes." Blaize ached, and welcomed his wife to more.

She unfastened her hair, and then went quickly to lay across him and tangle her fingers in his. Blaize tried too, but he was tired and offended at being used as her plaything. And, he was pinned down. The carriage was waiting somewhere out there, with his bag and his plans. It felt wrong to do this when his heart wasn't in it and his body couldn't get out of it. But the hurt welled up and when he could have used some military maneuver and escape her fervent grasp, Blaize chose to work it out, in the sex. Why the hell not? If she was going to be like this, then he could be just as bad. She'd asked for it. He straddled Celestia and took her as if it was his one time to be free, his last day on this earth.

She held on. She let go. She opened her shoulders and raised arms up, to muss so much of his hair as he went. Celestia became nervous and was unraveling. He was serious and ready to shout. She gasped and lashed a plump arm across her large breasts beginning to loose at the force of it.

"You're so sexy. I didn't mean to complain, Celeste. All of you, and this passion and energy... it's ferocious. A challenge. Exactly what I like. The truth is, I've wanted and missed you so much. But I was afraid to stay."

Celestia took careful breaths. "Cute. But you aren't... finished yet, are you?"

Blaize pressed his cheek against hers, then raised up on strong arms again. "You'd better believe, this is far from over." He then gripped the pillow, near her head, and grabbed the headboard with his other hand. Blaize, fully alerted to what he wanted, started again.

He enjoyed the look and feel of his Celestia's wonderful body, for a long time after. The old, raucous bed responded, in kind.

They ended with breathless, happy kisses. The sun fully shone out through the clouds.

"You're not ever leaving me." Blaize informed her. He felt half out of his mind with spent lust.

Celestia nodded, completely sweet and submissive.

"I won you. You belong to me."

"Yes, my love. Whatever you ask, it's yours."

"And you aren't leaving this bed. You have no idea how much I wanted you, and worried about you."

"And I, you. I beg you to forgive me. Please, have mercy on me, Blaize."

He was cruel. "Mercy isn't gifted. It's earned. You need to work for it."

Celestia gained a sly smile. "Take me again, then, General. Let's see how I do."

Blaize did as he was told.

And there was a third time. "Now, do you forgive me?"

Blaize was now past reason. He smoothed hands all over her, kissed and pressed himself silently up against her.

"Ah. I've energized you past speech."

"Past everything." he clarified, then shifted weight so that he was on top. Deep, triumphant breathing.

"What is turning you on so much, my sweetest heart?"

"Every swell, every curve... All the times I lost my breath in this bed since we've been back. And then this morning, and I feared I would suffocate-"

"Oh, that's sort of crude for you to share with me..."

"No, haha! Not that, I mean I felt awful. Like I was going to die, for all I'd ever done wrong."

"That is how I felt, locked down in those dungeons. Kael'thas really is capable, of completely forgetting about me. I never thought that, when he was a Prince, he might grow to hate me so much. All the things I yelled and said to Anasterian, right in front of his eyes... how unkind I was to someone so vulnerable and in need of a mother. I never tried, with him."

Blaize rested, listening to her heart. "We are both on the side of villainous, but we're not evil. You, especially. You can't have survived, by hating so hard. Kael'thas didn't survive Outland that way, Nor Illidan the Black Temple. And if I ever smashed both their knuckle-skulls together, like I wanted, I and the Sunfury would be defeated somewhere out there."

Celestia patted his back. "Oh, and think of Lady Vashj. She wouldn't let go of it. Even when she had everything she wanted. We'd still be in Dalaran as a result, not that I regret her demise, but do you know, there was a point at which she could have stopped barking at Novia, let it all drop... and then she'd still be alive, with Malfurion."

"She hit the bottom, saw it, but then chose not to get back up. The rest of us at least tried."

"You don't think she could have stayed close with Kael and Illidan through all that?"

"I don't know. I don't know what her own life was worth to her, only she could ever say. Let's not think of it anymore."

"Gladly. Let's dispense with all thoughts of failure. I mean, this certainly does not feel like failure, especially not at my age."

Blaize stayed solemn. "No other woman... the others just floated right out of my grasp. It's like they didn't see me or reach me. But I can't hide from your wit or how good you feel. It's bold and loud. You just... bust out of all your best dresses. I could watch you... breathing, and nothing else, all day long. I confess, I've busied my mind, sometimes, waiting for corsets and brazier stitches to rip right apart, and see you expose yourself. Then, I think of how Anasterian got those for you, and now he's cold-dead and they're all mine-I can play and tug, and slobber all over them like I'm sixteen again. Who's going to get cross with me? The King Anasterian himself threatened me for being a rake, but so what? Now, I'm screwing his gorgeous wife every chance I can get and loving it. All I had to do was survive the war and out-live him. You even cut short my wait. I honestly don't care how Anasterian went-I could cry, this is so fucking wonderful of you, to let me have you at last. This is our best con ever. To jail and back, we took all of Silvermoon by storm. I just adore you, Celeste-Ha!"

"You're a terror! Just say that you've found, late in life, that you love big women with big tits and asses and all that, and it'd be far more kind, Blaize. What a sinister creature you truly are. You think I took out the old rooster to make room for a younger cock? That's sick."

Blaize bit his lip and winked at her. "I honestly don't care why you did it, Celeste. You are all mine at last. The money, the title, the beautiful woman, all of it! I won. I cheated and lied, and stole-alright, and forgave-and fought my way through it, but I made it, with you. This is called victory. Darling, you make me want to yell out."

"I believe you did that already. Or was that me? Don't apologize for your nasty way of talking about our love, by the way. It was rare and genuine for you, to drop that stuffy class-act. I think I liked it." she hugged him close.

Blaize lay down, thinking. "Forgiveness and criminality be damned. What did that ever matter to us? We're terrible people reunited over the worst thing, ever, and we're enjoying it. Now, where were we?" A kiss, "Have I pleased you, at least, Celestia? If not myself?"

She smiled, then pulled up the covers. "You're a little bit angry too still, aren't you?"

"No, it's raw need. I'm worse than you've ever seen me before. All this true love for you and worry for you finally bubbled over into something I can't wait to bring up in public, once we get a good barrister to fix this... Kael'thas made a mistake today, freeing all the prisoners. We're going to exploit his compassion to the fullest-"

"Hold. Blaize, not all the prisoners went free for the holiday. Just the ones in my block. The socialites, the powerful women..."

"But why target that group? If he didn't have the guts to name you personally, as worthy of a breath of real air, then he covered it by freeing everyone else in your section, didn't he?"

Celestia covered her mouth. "I... has Kael'thas forgiven me?"

"No. If he had forgiven you, Kael'thas would have dropped all charges, the way he has always dropped everything for Saturna, demon magic, or his Bloodknights. By the way, in that order. What Kael'thas has done is try, for you. I know him." Blaize's smile really broadened then. "This is a gift to you and myself, directly from the King. He expects us to take advantage. Kael'thas can't say it, he can't initiate it, but we can. He trusts us to be the bad guys, hire a dirty lawyer at last minute, throw a scandal at the public so they can't look away and it'd be a crime to ever put you up again."

Celestia squeezed him and cheered.

"I already know what to tell the barrister-maybe we'll blackmail Saturna's own father into helping. Lord Byron is a shark. Wasn't he the one who represented Anasterian all that long ago? And fixed it so that Saturna got Kael'thas' succubus in that 'not-so-secret' separation they went through..."

"Lord Byron Mageblade?" Celestia paused, thinking. "Oh gods! Oh, by my all magic, that would work, that'd be perfect. Yes, young him was one of many barristers who rose to the challenge, back at the Hall of Justice. We'll spin it completely out of control. Byron knew him intimately, that he had it coming, about my assassination plot, everything... Blaize! It was definitely self-defense."

"Yes dear. That's what it looks like, so that's what we'll say. One way or another, that old bastard deserved it. And there it is again, knowing he's gone, and feeling you beside me, going from death, to how you delivered it just in time for us-for you to catch me and still think me young and thin, by some miracle-then heat all over again. From now on, I don't think I will ever be able to have enough of your body and your rotten-badness, Celestia."

"That's happily ever after, if I've ever heard it." Blaize's wife smirked.

Wonderful, charming woman. Weren't they all?

Blaize was therefore able to convince Celestia to stay home and take the holiday with friends. They weren't their friends, exactly, but nobody ever really was. Sunthraze had returned, walking across the field barefoot with his hardly dressed wife and the rest of the Bloodknights. Celestia spied their latest guests from the window, upstairs.

"Oh, damn."

"What?" Blaize spoke over the cigar smoke he now definitely craved after performing so consistently well. In some cases, they both had learned, it was okay to be their terrible selves.

"We're not so villainous to get out of this next thing coming. Sweetheart, we'll have to get dressed."

To their surprise, people who had drawn weapons on them and argued with them only a few years earlier, now applauded when the Lord and Lady of the house entered the living room.

"Oh, but I bet he hasn't shagged enough yet!" Tempest whistled like crazy. Celestia flushed, then curtsied and took a seat. Blaize gave a death-look to Fennore, who abandoned the rest of the couch so he could sit next to his wife. The other Bloodknights were out of their heads with joy.

"I see that everyone is into my cigars."

"That's what you do, when there's a birthday, dear father." Sunthraze began to pour out drinks as well. "I know it might be a sore topic, but our favorite friend had a healthy baby girl this morning. We're happy for her."

Celestia privately took Blaize's hand, to let him know it was alright with her. Blaize eased into a smile. "Here's to Saturna and babies, but most of all, the wondrous art of baby-making." He raised his glass, "And then there's weekend long conjugal visits..."

Celestia yelped and swatted him. "I'll toast to that. And by the way, I assume you all felt free enough to come to my house because you agree with me, not the charges." she narrowed eyes, "If not, you can get out."

Daphne helped them through the lull. Her son with Pyorin was on her lap. "There's been evidence, for a while now, that the Convocation of Silvermoon didn't mysteriously end itself. And would Arthas have entered the Hall of Justice, and leave it standing? If King Anasterian was aiming to end the governance we know and love, then anyone who sought to punish him would have done justice."

Pyorin mumbled, "It should have been left to the courts, in that case..."

"What court? It was blown to pieces." Celestia snapped back.

"Eh. If anyone knows, it's Bloodknights, right?" Tempest was getting louder than she probably realized. She had another sip of drink. "Anasterian probably ended our civilization as easily as Kael'thas up and decided to kill Pathaleon the Calculator that time."

Blaize raised his eyebrows.

"K-ster shouldn't act like this stuff never happens. Like someone in charge doesn't mess up."

"Well, this was worse than mess up. Anasterian wanted to destroy my life-had made several threats upon it-and was actively going about destroying everything else. In my book, ha, literally! he ceased being a king, right there and began being a criminal."

"We should probably leave more commentary for a barrister's presence, so it can't be taken out of context, Celeste." Blaize kissed her.

"I'm glad things have been forgiven, at least here." Pyorin conceded.

Fennore had a strange smile on his face. "Blaize, I've never seen you this happy. At least, not in the presence of the Knights of the Blood Nexus."

He kissed his wife again, in front of everyone, and the reason for his joy was more than obvious.

"I really wonder what it would have been like, if I'd had a chance to live on at Tempest Keep." Celestia said when he was done.

They all held their breaths.

"Not to worry, she knows about my scheme with Liadrin at the time."

"It was a smart one, too." Celestia agreed.

Sunthraze let out a low whistle. "Yep. That's Ma and Pa for you. Evil and Eviler."

Blaize lay his head on his wife's round shoulder. She adjusted her pink frilly dress. "You know, I would have worn Kael'thas bald with worry. And I would have had this man running laps around the ship, just to suit me."

"I'd run twice as many, for you Celeste."

An affectionate, "Awwww..."

Sunthraze interrupted. "So, no one is going to make fun of me? For finding out that Blaize, of all people, is my father?"

Daphne shook her head, "Why, so you can come back with the jokes you obviously have prepared for each one of us? No thank you."

Some silence.

"Saturna came real close to being both your mother and the second notch on your bedpost." Pyorin said. Several people spit out their drinks, for laughter.

"Oh, how retarded is that, telling everybody what I said, in tears, and in confidence Pyorin. Well old buddy, you'd better buckle down cause the one I have for you is-"

Fennore wanted to go next. "Tempest the Raven is your wife, Celestia the evil Queen is your mother-in-law, and now you're also related to mean King Kael'thas. Oh, and after all that, Blaize is still your father."

More laughter.

"Look, Demon-lover, the next time you try to-"

"Oh, oh, oh!" Went Daphne, "Technically, your name is Sunthraze Blaize Sunthraze."

"Ha. That's not even really that funny-"

Celestia went, "Or you'll be introduced at Court as Lord Sunthraze Sunthraze. And they have to do it too, no special requests. Loud, in front of everyone important. Your children's children will cursing your... one name."

"HAHAHAHA!"

Sunthraze turned red.

Tempest had been bent in half, singing nervously to her drink placed on the carpet floor. Finally, she smiled, sat up and erupted, "BLAIZE GOT TO SECOND BASE WITH ME!"

Shock, a giddy raucous, then horror and shouts coming from Celestia.

Blaize made it even worse, "... I thought we agreed we weren't going to tell anyone, Tempest."

Daphne was cringing. "Was this before, or after Liadrin's lecture about Big Nate Blaize being a big-user-freak?"

Mavia had turned away, she was snarling and laughing so hard. She started to choke, and Fennore reached an arm around, to pat her back.

"... IT WAS TOTALLY AFTER. HAHAHA! I'm so sorry, honey, that I once made out with your father, and then he touched my boobieeeees!"

Sunthraze clamped her robe shut, when Tempest tried to flash the entire room. "Butler, please get my wife some water."

Celestia murmured, "And some self-respect..."

Blaize had to go, "...hey!"

"Why, I wonder, did it never get beyond second base?" Magnus had been quiet the entire time, sipping wine.

Fennore made a face, as if he'd just seen something. Mavia hunched her shoulders, returned to looking about the room like a caught animal. "Please, I beg you not to answer. I am a succubus married to her warlock, and I still don't think I can take much more of this torture..."

Tempest was laughing too hard, or else yelling foolishness, so Blaize was forced to account for himself. "Because... the lady said she had to make a date at the elevators with my... Sunthraze. Aherm, and she also had an axe. I don't argue with women who have..."

"Axes?" Daphne, ever academic, was eager to fill in the lingering blank.

"No. I was looking for a polite way to say... severe and violent daddy-issues."

Celestia glared. "And now, thanks to your raking around two whole planets, that thing is my daughter-in-law."

"Celeste, you can take one good look at her and see it wasn't anything personal. We're all just lucky that fate decided in time, that Tempest and Sunthraze belonged together."

Sunthraze realized, "Dear gods! That was the same day we finally made it official, Tempest. Our relationship almost ended with you screwing Kael'thas, but, before, it started with you making out with my father? Then, ontop of it, you knew this for weeks after we figured the paternity, but you chose to tell me? Today of all days, in front of my friends? You're crazy. Woman, you are completely, and finally, bat-shit crazy, do you know? For the love of..." he scowled, and made fists on the armrests of his chair.

And the Knights of the Blood Nexus were through and breathless, believing they couldn't possibly laugh harder.

Tempest finished a gulp of water. "No it's cute, though, I noticed forever ago that you guys kiss exactly the same. Not that I could have known what that meant. Hey! And Blaize and you even have the same moves. Gosh, I wonder, if it went further you both would have had the same..."

Blaize stood in front of everyone. "Alright, here's your father's joke. All you &%$ -ing Bloodknights get the $% out of my house."

He wasn't kidding, either. When the Bloodknights wouldn't go away, Celestia gently set her drink down, then gave an order to release the &%$ -ing dogs.

The Bloodknights ran from the house screaming. But other than that, they'd worked hard for the present-day and things in Quel'thalas were pretty good. And so, eventually, they did live happily ever after.

_But, it's not quite The End, yet..._


	28. To feel better, you have to do better

**MLFMP**- a story of fangirl delusion, Bloodknight zealotry and heartfelt recovery.

**Fall of Quel'thalas by pooktales  
**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Getting Better**

"There is one last thing to do, you know. Maybe you can already guess what that is?"

Kael'thas spoke to his daughter. Anthene gurgled. Was she smiling? Was she practicing smiling, even now? He felt bright in his own jaw, looked up for Saturna. No, no, don't wake her... this would be Daddy's moment.

Daddy and Anthene.

Once, Kael'thas remembered, his mother had been sitting in this same antique Thalassian chair, that picked up rocking as mother's heart-beat slowed, to ensure baby remained asleep. What a gift. What a great gift it was, to be doing the same now. He was bigger than Anthene, setting in his mother's lap all that long ago. Was he three years old? Four? She kept coming forward, to pick up his legs, sweep them into a warmer embrace when he no longer fit in the chair or her lap and that upset him more. Kael'thas remembered being upset already about some childhood drama, and that the horror at no longer being able to fit into his favorite chair with is mother was worse. The enchanted chair did its work when she was exhausted. Rocking, rocking, rocking... He realized now, the treasured furniture must have alerted her now and then, to keep holding on, to keep holding onto him.

And who knew, who truly knew how his mother Queen Anthene'alas lived and loved him, with cruel Anasterian as a husband?

Kael'thas held his daughter Anthene closer and refused to think more about it, how truly evil his father had been, and how unfair it was that he had never known until it was too late. Until he had already made those same mistakes-indulging Demon's blood, addicting himself to savagery, manipulating so many others as if using in a blind rampage, not able to get that next high without coming down so hard again... all that time, he had been a monster.

Always, always, Kael'thas the monster.

But Anthene was smiling at him today. Wasn't that a chance?

"Oh, I never said what that was..." he got up and took her back near the cradle, but set baby Anthene on the changing table instead. A last look over his shoulder. No, Saturna was not getting back up. "Looks like I get to change one of your first diapers. Haha!" then, "Oops, shhh...don't cry."

_Yes, this is what you deserve. This is who you are. Who we are. I am so proud of you, Kael'thas._

That the voice speaking was rooted as deeply in his consciousness that he had at first mistaken it for the wayward ghoul of his father, made Kael'thas realize things were not done yet. They never would be. Did he dare expose another generation of Sunstrider to this?

It was not that Kael'thas understood in that moment that what he had been doing, for years, was wrong. He had known all along. Now, looking at Anthene, he also understood that he never believed himself worthy or capable enough before... to actually stop.

Stop.

A careful call down the corridor, and a dutiful servant came to take his place, and watch baby Anthene, while Saturna slept. Kael'thas walked a long ways through his castle, then took his red gloves off before turning into an arcane-lit passageway, descending a blue spiral staircase. All that crimson of his washed out, all his blonde left behind. When he set foot on the dungeon level, it was cold, and he was cold inside too. No, colder. White and stark for leaving off doing this one last thing-incomplete as these pages.

So in need of flesh, a chance to be real and say or do something better. When he set feet down on the same ground as the Demon Lord again, on this final level of the palace dungeon, Kael'thas understood another thing: only now, was he becoming real.

Illidan Stormrage was waiting there, having come to the bars for him. Illidan was able to press face so close to the metal, because Kael'thas had used the Whiteblade to sever both of his horns, days earlier.

"Anthene is so beautiful a baby-"

"This is over. Illidan, we are no longer friends."

Illidan tightened one fist over the bars. He set teeth into his thumb. The blindfold covered his eyes, but long ears raised slightly, betraying that his arrogance was sharp as ever. He believed he had not heard, really. "But I chose us over Vashj, in Nazjatar." He laughed. Then, he waited a long time, not laughing. "Kael'thas... I chose right."

"I have been addicted to you, for years. Hiding from you in Tempest Keep, a fortress wasn't enough. Getting revenge on you wasn't enough. And now that I've chopped your horns off you still speak to me as if... this is pointless." Kael'thas came forward and unlocked the cage. "Nothing has changed because nothing ever will if one of us won't put a stop to it. And I'm the one. Get out, Illidan. Don't come back."

"You? I am immortal. _You_ can't rid yourself of me. You can talk as if you want to, but that will never make any kind of difference. Where's all your power gone?"

"Illidan, this is about my will, as a mortal man. I can't think, without wondering what it would feel like to just have that power again, pooling out of my palm, oozing between my fingers... I can't even sing, alone, to my own daughter. I think I head, I doubt that I will be enough and suddenly the want for your power is there again. I can't even make love to my wife, without thinking of what you did to her."

"If you want a Demon's enhancement in a time like that, in your marriage bed, Kael'thas, you have far other problems-" Illidan, grinned, but Kael'thas didn't laugh back. He slammed flat palms on the bars and yelled that he was being serious.

"Do you know, Kael'thas..." Illidan laughed again, through his nose, but then he seemed to realize, for the first time, how unkind his freudenschad was. It made Illidan sad. "As you always said, a good warlock can delve into the darkness to risk everything and then come back. Kael, you have created a world where, the woman you love... Saturna was not raped by me. I never murdered her, not this time... so then, why are you rejecting me? The future you dreamed of, when you were King and happily wed and a better father than your own, this is finally real."

"Illidan, you still went too far. It should have never happened in the first place." Kael'thas raised hand, pointed, "I should not have taken you back into my life. I should not have allowed you anywhere near... Illidan, you should not have tortured Saturna's mind before then, you should not have allowed Vashj to give nightmares to half of my army and lost Voren'thaal the Seer, you should have never lied to me, about needing the comfort of my very soul! Dammit, Illidan you are not a good friend to me, you never were. This twisted connection to you, it has to be... It's broken. That is the final thing, which needs to be done. As I said, get out. I can't have you anymore, and you're free of me."

Illidan snatched the grate shut again, Kael'thas yelled out and suddenly found himself in an irrational tug-of-war with the big Demon Lord, to get him from prison.

"Dammit, didn't you go through this with Maive already?"

Illidan snarled back, "Tyrande didn't just spring the gate open and free me back then. I let her take me out of that damned tree. I wanted to go with her. Kael'thas, you're not thinking. You're being ridiculous, in fact-if our friendship was bad, then it was only as awful as you were-we're villains together, or did you forget!"

Kael'thas cursed him, and let go the bars, mussed his hair, paced.

"...I see." said Illidan. "You've grown this much. You've become... good." and he did sound disgusted.

"No, I am better. Stronger. Illidan, you may be laughing now, but have you ever asked yourself-'Why, am I so glad to live in a cage?' You want to be in there, instead of beside a person, his equal?"

"I don't get to be your equal if I leave this cage."

"You'll never be my equal inside of a cage."

"Feh. You think too much of yourself, Kael'thas..."

"ILLIDAN!"

"Fine. I am thinking it over. Though, already know the answer."

Kael'thas waited. Illidan, and he looked more pained than the Bloodmage had ever seen him, than even the time Illidan took Kael'thas from Saturna's loving arms before Shatthrath... Kael'thas did not betray to anyone that he was there and awake enough in that moment. He did know. That vision of Saturna wanting him and the feel of Illidan's own despair, because he was tempted more than ever to just give his friend back... to those who needed Kael'thas more. That scene stayed with Kael'thas for a time before he understood what it meant, that Illidan had fawned over him as a would a lover, or a bereft brother, a father... too much in one moment. More than Saturna, his soul mate, had been able to suffer. Everything and yet absolutely nothing Kael'thas should have meant to this monster Illidan, who could never be his friend.

And now, Illidan even turned and gently closed the dungeon gate again behind him, once he was free of it. So frightened of offending this last, twisted affectation...

"I thought we two... would be friends forever. Look at all we suffered, Kael'thas."

Kael'thas shook his head, because he feared to blink. His eyes were stinging.

Illidan walked on cleft hooves to the far wall. He wiped a hand across it, and suddenly the stone was no obstacle. The painful red dusk evening waited.

Powerful, amazing dream-magic. Kael'thas knew Illidan was partly doing it, working this one last spectacle, to tempt him again. "I see also, that you won't even ask how I've done this?"

"Because this whole life is a dream, I assume."

Illidan's violet back to him flexed. He lifted a wing, pointed, let it guide him around. His last smile was pained. "Dreams become goals... and then, before you know it, that is your life. And so, life can become a dream also... if you stop trying. If you forget that it matters. We do have the power to reverse the pain, you see."

"I don't understand. You changed a solid wall into naked air. Now, you're giving me some speech about dreams and stars..."

"Didn't you ever wonder, how I survived so much? Or, I should be more specific... why Malfurion never succeeded at killing me, or anyone else? But you were able to. And Saturna, also, she came close."

"We will never speak of that again, just go-"

"Saturna wanted it that badly, revenge on me. You once did as well. Then, it became real. And the most powerful spell I can work involves preventing others from realizing their dreams."

"Yeah, right."

"What is a dream, Kael'thas? It's an idea, anyway, not a tangible thing. An elusive concept, an invention meant to define an invention. There is a lot of room to play with its definition and structure, therefore. Come on now, a warlock as smart as yourself should be able to see that-magic is intent anyways, what you make of it. You have to see it first, correct? If you deny it before it exists... a person can abort potential."

Kael'thas sighed. Yes, he could see it.

Illidan went on, "What do you think the real point of the intimidation was, and the cruelty, those mind games, for years... I prevented things before they ever happened. I fooled people into believing they weren't worth anything and so then they didn't try. I taught them that it was better to fear me and stand behind me. That is exactly what they did. I looked at this wall, I stopped caring that it was stone, I wanted to be out more than I was trapped inside... reality re-arranged itself. Just for me."

"Are you trying to tell me, Illidan, that you've intimidated existence itself out of your way? Then why not wish yourself out of every bad situation you've ever been in? Unless you're going to say that you were hiding it until now-because then I'd guess your advantage, oh yes, I see it. I do know you, afterall."

"No, you couldn't be further off! Oh, you're an idiot, Kael'thas. My will is stronger than that of stone. Any mortal man or woman or creature has got a stronger heart than some dead object. At least, there is a chance there-a choice to live or do. What does stone do, it just sits there."

Kael'thas was still skeptical. "Dreams can become physically real, then."

"The best trick I ever played on anyone, was convincing them that their inviolate will didn't exist, and that fighting me wasn't worth the struggle. And Vashj knew this as well, she used dream-magic. She did not just go through time and change events, there's no spell to make life into exactly what you want it-"

"Oh, gods, Illidan, speaking of mind games... But you JUST SAID-"

"It's more like a chant. 'Yes, I am worth it. Yes, I am alive. I don't have to try. My breath is trying. Because, yes, I am worth it. By my breath I am alive. I don't have to breathe, my very will is trying. Because, yes, my will is worthy enough. By my very will I am alive. I don't have to will it into being. Because, yes, my want alone is worth it. Yes, by my want alone, I am a live. I don't have to want, my very effort is good enough. Because, yes, my effort is strong enough. By my very effort, I am alive. I don't have to even lend strength to make things change. Because, yes, my transformation alone is worth it. Yes, for having transformed, I am alive. I no longer have to transform, for my very breath... was always worthy enough."

Illidan spoke again. Kael'thas realized he'd said the last of it, heart beating against his one. One friend holding up another.

"What will we be, if we have already been enemies, and can no longer even be friends?" Illidan tightened embrace round his shoulders.

"I'm more afraid that chant got you this close to me."

"I won't stab you in the back. Not anymore, Kaelthas, Brother, I promise."

"You can't promise me. You can't promise me, Illidan, because this has all just been a game. You wanted your brother all along. You've wanted Tyrande. I can't be either of those people for you, clearly-"

"And you have been wanting your father."

Kael'thas had not seen it, until now.

"I release you, from it. Now, I regret so deeply, that I ever used you in that way."

Kael'thas walked with Illidan to the archway he'd made, out of no archway. "Go and find your brother, Illidan. Settle things. And for the Sun's sake, go out with some other woman if Tyrande's done with you."

"What about you?"

"I go back to my life."

"What is life anymore? Maybe the game is better."

"Now who's dreaming?"

Kael'thas opened his eyes again, and Illidan was gone. Like nothing had ever happened.

It wasn't fair,

That so much had taken place and hurt so much,

With nothing to show for it now,

But scars.

And when you tell people where you've been,

Or if you're afraid to,

I don't blame you, if you're afraid to-

The scars will have to heal first.

Even dreaming will be painful.

But, if at the least, you choose to breathe,

and then will things to change,

And then change that into real want,

And then that want will become real,

And your reality will, therefore be different,

And you will have transformed yourself,

Slowly at first, but,

Absolutely,

Through choosing to breathe.

Un-aided.

/gquit

/logout

Welcome back to life, where there aren't so many god-damned, pointless slashes.

Yes, Kael'thas did run out into the night later on, yelling for Illidan to 'get back here.' Kael'thas wandered in the rain, unable to tell whether he was shuddering from the loss or if it was the cold... and he had a baby daughter at home... what was he thinking? But to just drink from the Demon's veins again, one more time...

And, a year later, it was only a little better. His wife Saturna's smile did help. But Kael'thas was terrified that it would not be enough.

Then, a second year passed and Kael'thas wanted to die, because the desire came raging back at a moment exactly when he believed he was strongest.

But this coincided with Faltheriel ending his first year of employment as his Chief Advisor. Relief, when Kael'thas realized that something uniquely painful had just triggered it. It was the challenge in life which made him feel weaker and more lonesome. And what made him better? The realization that nothing Illidan had ever said to him in any situation would have made Faltheriel organizing his day-by-day, any better. Good thing, that Illidan was gone.

Which hurt, but Kael'thas was able, to at least see that, and understand that, and learn from that.

Anthene was so cute on her second birthday. Kael'thas found a way to make her a cake, without using magic. Illidan would have been proud-and he was thinking of him again, and wishing he could tell him... but Illidan would have given him a thousand demon servants making a thousand birthday cakes and this would have robbed Kael'thas of the chance, to see his daughter Anthene eating and sticking her little tongue out, chipmunk's cheeks full at the burnt cake her father made.

And then he and Saturna would fight sometimes, because his wife still had trouble trusting him. Kael'thas had hurt her so much. He hadn't known. He hadn't ever been fully around, before. How long had this been going on? He felt awful, he wondered...

His friends came back slowly, they did not understand his new mood-that Kael'thas insisted was not a 'new' mood, it was how he had always been, a generally standable person-nice.

Three years later, and having ever wasted time with Illidan seemed now like the dumbest thing he'd ever done. Beneath all the grime and grit of their alliance and the confusion it caused, was a whole other life waiting to be lived beneath the surface, with people he cared for.

Finally, and I don't know how long it would have taken... Illidan sent Kael'thas a letter about his marriage to Lady Novia.

Which was incredibly weird. And Kael'thas worried that Illidan hadn't quit his addiction either, to Night Elf priestesses.

But, there was a reason why Kael'thas never got invited to the wedding in the first place, he learned, as he held the crackling paper and read it over and over again with eyes bulged and one blonde eyebrow raised. Illidan was completely different now. Illidan had realized that Kael'thas never made him happy. And so it seemed, his once friend had gone and done something that didn't make any sense what-so-fel-ever. But that wasn't it. This had been Illidan all along, capable of loving a real, breathing woman who didn't need to be larger than life. And, maybe, their dark personalities even matched?

Do you want him to go back to the way he was? Chasing a woman so unlike him, listening to your bad advice to keep fixing it. They had only been drowning together, he and Illidan, Illidan and Tyrande... barely keeping their heads above water together.

And that was no way to live.

A long time after... General Blaize actually invited Kael'thas to his home. Celestia got a chance to bond with her granddaughter while at the Sunthraze Estate, their first hug together was precious, and Kael'thas had to think hard, to tell his old General how Illidan was doing at all, when Blaize worked through a silence, to ask.

"Haven't you got a soul link with him, though, Kael'thas?"

"No... not anymore, I believe."

Sunthraze was still living on there, with Tempest for some reason. Probably, that the mansion had his name tied to it helped. Tempest and Sunthraze didn't believe it was really possible, for Illidan to just move on.

Kael'thas sipped water, swallowed, then tried to explain again. "It just feels as if... Illidan gave me my life back. My soul is my own now. Is that possible?"

"Didn't know junkies had souls to begin with. Illidan probably sold it for some Blood Elf blow-up do-" Sunthraze was prevented from challenging it, much. Tempest jabbed him.

Kael'thas repeated, "...Yeah, it's back. I'm my own man now."

"How does that feel, Kael'thas?" Tempest wondered.

"I don't know... like I waved my hand in front of a wall, and it just disappeared. Like a dream of mine dream came true, just like that."

They had all noticed the change in Kael'thas, more difficult for him than any of their crazed adventures together on myriad foreign battlefields. Over these last three years, the Bloodknights, his remaining friends and his family, had all grown so proud of Kael'thas the man.

"My Life for my Prince." Tempest saluted, and she meant it now, on behalf of everyone, more than anything.

-The End-

...

A final note: Good luck, to all. Life is not easy, but at least we get to live. For those who may struggle, never forget that there is a great difference between living and mere survival. Then, ironically, in that one can even realize this difference, is that precious sliver of hope you need to finally get better: you saw it all along.


End file.
